


no intention to keep it

by weisenbachfelded



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Weddings, bcos it’s my fic and in this house race is nonbinary no i don’t take criticism, jack is bi davey is gay sarah and kath are lesbians and that’s final, mild though! and i will tag chapters accordingly, nonbinary racetrack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24648808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weisenbachfelded/pseuds/weisenbachfelded
Summary: ‘I told my parents ages ago that I was seeing somebody.’ Davey says, rushing his words out. And I never thought it would come to anything, and that they’d just forget...’‘What are you trying to say, Davey?’ Jack asks, although Davey suspects, from the smirk on his face, that he already knows.‘I need someone to pretend to be dating me for the wedding.’ He grumbles.Jack, to his utmost annoyance, throws his head back and laughs.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Sarah Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer
Comments: 160
Kudos: 176





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> whew i am making a mistake starting another fic but idc!!  
> have a javid fake dating au bcos there’s not enough in this pairing
> 
> tw for referenced homophobia nothing will be very graphic or detailed im keeping it to a minimum  
> (if there’s ever a section you want to skip because of a tw, leave me a comment/hit me up on tumblr and i’ll summarise it for u)
> 
> also! jack texts in **bold** and davey texts in _italics_

‘Oh, hey, Jack!’ Davey hears Racetrack say, excitedly. ‘You brought my stuff!’ He listens as Jack greets them, and they talk quietly between themselves. Davey taps his fingertips nervously on the table. 

‘And make sure you ask him!’ Race raises their voice, to shout to Davey. ‘I’ll see you later!’ With that, Davey hears the front door slam shut. 

‘Ask me what?’ Jack asks, grinning at him over the stack of boxes he’s holding. He puts them down next to the rest of Race’s clutter, and straightens up stiffly, rubbing his back. ‘Remind me never to do anything for Race. Ever.’

‘You’re telling me.’ Davey replies. ‘I should never have asked them to move in. I’ve been hauling boxes non-stop for a week.’ 

Jack laughs at that, and Davey revels in it. He tries desperately to catch the swooping of his stomach, but before he can, his chest is clenching, heart stuttering. There’s never a time when Jack isn’t beautiful to Davey, but nothing can even come close to comparing to his laugh. When he laughs, he’s all dimples and crinkled eyes, soft and gentle. He feels a familiar twist of guilt in his stomach, and drags his gaze from Jack’s face. He laughs along with Jack, and sips his coffee. 

Jack collapses into the chair opposite, and shrugs off his jacket. 

‘What did you want to ask me?’

Davey opens his mouth to explain, then closes it again, like a goldfish, at a loss for words. 

‘It doesn’t matter. It’s just Race being annoying.’ 

‘Tell me anyway.’ Jack says. Davey bites his lip. He just knows this is going to be a mistake. No good decision has ever come from advice given by Racetrack Higgins. 

‘My cousin is getting married next week.’ He explains, finally. ‘And - well - you know how parents are, especially around weddings.’

‘What are you trying to say, Davey?’ Jack asks, although Davey suspects, from the smirk on his face, that he already knows. 

‘I told my parents ages ago that I was seeing somebody.’ Davey says, rushing his words out. And I never thought it would come to anything, and that they’d just forget...’

‘And...?’ Jack prompts, still smirking.

‘And now they’re asking about my ‘special someone.’’

‘And...?’ 

Davey shoots him a withering glare.

‘I need someone to pretend to be dating me for the wedding.’ He grumbles. 

Jack, to his utmost annoyance, throws his head back and laughs. 

‘Trust you, Davey!’ He says between laughs. ‘Why don’t you just tell ‘em the truth?’ He asks. 

‘I already promised I was bringing someone.’ Davey admits. ‘Don’t look at me like that! I panicked! Plus -‘ he breaks off. 

‘Oh, no.’ Jack says, noticing how his face had fallen. ‘What else?’ 

‘I - I may have forgotten to mention the gender of the person I’m supposedly dating.’ 

‘So you’re saying...?’

‘They think I’m dating a girl.’ Davey admits. 

Jack stares. It takes a moment for Davey to realise he’s stifling a laugh. 

‘It’s not funny, Jack!’ He says, although he’s already starting to laugh himself. 

Jack can’t hold it in any longer, and suddenly both of them are laughing, tears in their eyes. 

‘I’m sorry, Dave!’ Jack wheezes. ‘It’s just - the thought of you - they really believe you’re seein’ a girl?’ 

‘Fuck you!’ Davey says through his laughter. ‘I could be straight! My parents believe it, anyway.’ 

Jack looks him up and down, then starts laughing again. Davey has to admit, the combination of the rolled-up jeans and the tucked-in shirt he’s wearing do give him away a little. 

‘Who are you gonna take, then?’ Jack asks. 

Davey hesitates - a mistake, as it gives Jack the chance to immediately start listing off their friends. 

‘Race? Nah, Albert would kill you. How about Spot? No, I feel like he’d be too scary to date. He doesn’t seem like the affectionate type. Oh, how about Specs? Surely he’s perfect for this.’

‘Actually, Jack,’ Davey says, slowly, and a little sheepishly, an uncomfortable knot forming in his chest. ‘Race said that I should ask you.’ 

‘Me?’ Jack says, incredulous. ‘I’m hardly boyfriend material, Davey.’ 

‘You’re one of the only people who’s never met my parents.’ Davey points out. ‘But anyway, it was just Race being Race. You definitely don’t have to.’ 

‘Okay - first of all, you were supposed to tell me that I most definitely am boyfriend material.’ Jack says, faking being affronted. ‘But I’ll let that slide. I’ll do it.’ 

‘Well, it’s not that I don’t think - wait, what?’ Davey blinks in surprise. 

‘What the hell.’ Jack shrugs. ‘We’ll have a laugh. It’ll be great. Plus, a wedding means free drinks and free food.’ 

‘Oh. Great. Thanks, Jack. I should - I should warn you, though, it might not be so fun.’ Davey rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. ‘My family... when the whole ‘gay’ thing does come up, it won’t be very popular.’ 

‘That’s okay. I mean -‘ Jack back-pedals at top speed. ‘ - I mean, it’s okay with me. I can handle it. I’ll make sure you’re okay, Davey.’ He says, all in a rush. 

When Davey looks up at him, he’s already staring. There’s a soft, worried crease between his eyebrows, and a light blush high on his cheeks. 

‘Okay. Okay, cool. Yeah, this is going to be fine.’ Davey exhales heavily, and leans back in his chair. Something tells him this is definitely not going to be fine. 

*

Three days later (t-minus two days until the wedding), Davey is marking tenth-grade essays when he gets a text from Jack. It’s hardly unusual; they text all the time. It’s mainly limited to screenshots of tweets, or videos; things they think the other will find funny - which means this text, in its unexpectedness, makes Davey’s chest feel tight and warm, a little uncomfortable. 

**can i come over**

_Does it matter if I say no?_

**not really**

_Yeah you can but Race isn’t here_

**that’s clam**

The English teacher in Davey shudders at the state of Jack’s texting. He waits for Jack to say something else, but receives nothing. And - oh, of course. 

_You’re outside, aren’t you?_

**;)))))))**

At that, the buzzer sounds, an insistant, incessant noise. Davey can tell he’s got his finger held down on the button. 

‘I’m coming, Jesus!’ Davey mumbles, mainly to himself. He unlocks the front door, and waits for Jack to tumble in through the door to their apartment - which he does, mere minutes later. 

‘Remind me to get you a key at some point.’ Davey says by way of a greeting. 

‘And it’s lovely to see you, too, Davey.’ Jack slips off his jacket and slings it over the back of a chair. 

‘Like I said, Race is in class this morning.’ Davey says absent-mindedly, still marking. 

‘I didn’t come to see Race. Although, please tell them I want my mug back.’ 

‘How the hell did they get your - you know what, never mind.’ Davey says, by now accustomed to their antics. ‘It’ll be in the cupboard in the kitchen, just steal it back.’ He gestures towards the kitchen, still holding his pen. ‘Better yet, steal their favourite mug. It’s the one with their name spelled out using elements from the periodic table.’ 

Jack dashes into the kitchen and comes back, gleeful, holding two mugs. He stows them in his bag, full of smug pride. 

‘Brilliant idea, Davey.’ 

‘You’re very welcome.’ Davey replies, still not looking up from his marking. ‘How come you’re here, then?’ 

‘I actually figured we should talk. About the whole dating thing.’ 

Davey snaps his head up at that, heart and head going at a million miles a minute. It takes him a moment to remind himself of his and Jack’s arrangement, and to steel himself. 

‘Oh. If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine. It’s kind of weird anyway -‘ he says, waving his pen around as he speaks. 

‘No, I do -‘ Jack interrupts. ‘I mean, I’m still good to do it. I just figured maybe we should, y’know. Talk about it. Or something.’ 

‘What do you mean?’ Davey sets his pen down, finally, giving Jack his full attention. 

‘Well, how’s it going to work? What does it involve? How far do you want to go?’ He wiggles his eyebrows and lowers his voice suggestively. Davey just rolls his eyes. 

‘I don’t know. I guess I just thought we’d...’ He gestures, searching for the words. ‘Make it up on the spot.’ 

‘Oh, really?’ Jack raises an apprehensive eyebrow. ‘So what if I kissed you?’ 

He leans in ever so slightly, batting his eyelids in an exaggeration of what a kiss would be, and laughs when Davey starts back. 

‘You see? That’s exactly the kind of thing that we want to avoid if we’re -‘ he gestures between the two of them ‘- going to convince your entire family we’re together.’ 

‘I guess you’re right.’ Davey says begrudgingly. 

‘Fantastic. So. Fill me in on the family.’ 

Davey blinks at him for a moment, then shakes his head ever so slightly, as if to clear it. 

‘Well, there’s my parents.’ 

‘Esther and Mayer.’ Jack supplies. 

‘Right. Lovely people, but not brilliant at the parenting thing. They have dedicated a large portion of their lives to making sure I know every way that I’ve disappointed them. They’re very traditional, and generally not the biggest fan of ‘the homosexuals’.’ Davey makes air quotes, stifling a grimace at the thought of his mother saying those very words. 

‘How - how bad are we talking?’ Jack asks. 

‘Could probably deal with seeing a gay couple kissing.’ Davey tilts his head, considering. ‘Probably not if it was their son.’ 

‘So kissing in front of them is off the cards?’ 

‘I didn’t say that.’ 

Jack laughs again, nodding understandingly. 

‘Kissing maybe. It depends if we want to make people uncomfortable or not. Which, if I’m being honest, we might. Especially since the rest of my family is very similar to my parents, except turned up to eleven.’ 

Jack gives a sympathetic grimace at that. 

‘Any specific people I should know about?’ 

‘My uncle Stefan won’t be much fun. He’s the most -‘ Davey breaks off, searching for the right word ‘- conservative of all the Jacobses. It’s his son who’s getting married, my cousin Benji. Prepare yourself for Benji. He’s drier than burnt toast.’

At Rosh Hashanah last year, Davey had had the misfortune to be seated next to Benji, and had been subjected to listening to him as he waxed poetic about his job as an accountant for over two hours. He was a nice person, Davey supposed. That didn’t mean he’d be spending more than about five seconds in his immediate vicinity. Not if he could help it. 

‘I can’t wait to meet them both.’ Jack says, with a smile that comes across as both pitying and comforting. 

‘The rest are - well, I can fill you in on them when you meet them.’ Davey says, waving a dismissive hand. 

‘And what about us? What do you need me to do?’ 

This is where Davey falls short. He has to admit, he hadn’t put much consideration into what Jack’s role as his fake-boyfriend would entail. 

‘We could lay out some rules?’ Jack suggests. ‘Or - not rules. Guidelines. Or something.’ He shrugs. 

‘Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.’ 

‘Okay.’ Jack smiles, and his dimples make an appearance. 

That smile, directed straight at Davey, makes him feel a little light-headed. Jack begins to tick things off on his fingers. 

‘Kisses are a maybe. Hand-holding?’ 

‘Yes.’ Davey says, without hesitating.

‘Pet names?’ 

‘Maybe?’ Davey thinks for a moment. ‘Nothing that will make me laugh.’ 

‘Aw, really, sweetcheeks?’ Jack says, hardly able to contain his own smile. 

‘Don’t even think about it, sunshine.’ Davey shoots back. 

‘Got it, no dumb pet names.’ 

‘To be honest, Jack, I kind of trust you.’ Davey shrugs. ‘We can just agree to do what feels right and let each other know if there’s something we don’t want.’ 

‘If you’re sure, Davey.’ Jack says, and there’s a softness to his voice that sounds almost fond. 

‘Yeah.’ Davey says, definitively. ‘As a rule, we can just go with anything that makes my parents a little bit uncomfortable.’ 

‘Got it.’ Jack nods, smiling. ‘Just you wait. I’ll be the best fake-boyfriend you’ve ever had.’


	2. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck it here’s another chapter! i’ve had this planned for so long so i’m gonna be excited about it
> 
> (jack texts in **bold** and davey in _italics_ )
> 
> again, tw for referenced homophobia

_I’m outside_

Davey waits, watching his phone, tapping his fingers anxiously against the driving wheel. 

**oh fuck**

_Please tell me you didn’t forget_

**no!!!**

**...**

**maybe i thought you were coming at 12 not 10 tho**

**im really sorry!**

Davey puts his head in his hands, starting to regret this whole thing. 

_It’s okay, no rush_

**be dwon in a sec jsut packign**

Davey can tell that Jack is texting with his phone in one hand. The thought of him frantically scrambling to pack his bags does make him smile a little. 

No less than five minutes later - which, Davey thinks, is pretty impressive - Jack tumbles out of the front door, keys between his teeth, one arm in his jacket, one hand trying to zip up an overflowing backpack. Davey leans over to open the passenger door. 

‘Glad you could make it.’ He jokes, with a weak smile. 

Jack just rolls his eyes, and throws his bag behind Davey into the back seat. He takes his keys out of his mouth, and pulls his jacket on, landing heavily in the front seat and pulling the door shut behind him, breathing hard. 

‘Shut your mouth, Jacobs.’ Jack teases. ‘I’m here, ain’t I?’ 

‘Barely.’ Davey says, dryly, starting the car. 

‘How you feelin’?’ Jack asks, looking over at him. Davey swallows, not taking his eyes off the road. 

‘Okay, I guess.’ He shrugs. ‘As good as I can be.’ 

Jack nods, slowly. ‘Makes sense.’ 

They drive in silence from then on, Davey still drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. Eventually, Jack reaches for the aux cord. 

‘Can I?’ He asks, waving the cord. 

‘Go ahead.’ Davey replies. ‘Don’t put on anything bad.’ 

‘Name one bad thing about my music taste.’ 

‘Sufjan Stevens.’ 

‘What’s wrong with Sufjan Stevens?’ Jack protests. 

‘It all sounds the same.’ Davey looks over at him incredulously. ‘Five minutes of ambient nature sounds, two lines of weird poetry, then ten more minutes of nature.’

‘And what’s wrong with that?’

‘It’s boring.’

‘Just because you’ve said that, I’m putting on Sufjan Stevens.’

‘I’ll crash the car if you do.’

‘No, you won’t.’

‘Just you watch.’

‘Like you’d actually - holy shit, Davey! Stop it! Fine, fine. I won’t put it on.’ 

*

Four restroom breaks and six hours later, they pull up outside the hotel. A huge, red-brick building with ivy climbing up the walls, Davey feels sick with intimidation at the sight. Jack must sense that something is wrong, because he reaches a hand over the console, resting his fingertips very lightly on Davey’s forearm. 

‘You good?’ Jack asks. 

Davey blinks. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.’ He says, after a long pause. ‘Let’s get it over with.’ 

He takes his time getting out of the car, and fetching his case from the trunk. 

‘You packed heavy for three nights.’ Jack comments, leaning against the side of the car. 

Davey doesn’t have a snarky response to that, so he keeps his mouth shut. He takes his time closing the trunk, and locking the car - even though that only takes one press of a button. 

‘We don’t have to go in yet. We could even go in the back entrance.’ Jack says, frowning. 

‘Don’t tease.’ 

‘I mean it! We could sneak up the fire escape, avoid your parents altogether.’ 

‘Shut up, Jack.’ 

Davey marches on ahead, pulling his case behind him. There’s only a certain speed that he can go while lugging a full suitcase behind him, and Jack quickly catches up to him. 

‘It’s gonna be okay, Davey.’ 

Davey looks at him, slowing his pace a little. Jack looks genuinely concerned, and there is something comforting about the gentle crease of a frown between his eyebrows. 

‘Yeah, it’s gonna be fine. Thank you for doing this. Really, I mean it.’ 

‘No problem at all.’ Jack says, but he’s smiling, cheeks tinged a little red. 

*

Davey takes his time checking them in, but all too soon, he has their room key in hand, and is left feeling suddenly very alone in the hotel lobby. 

‘Do you wanna find our room or your parents first?’ Jack asks. 

‘No need. They’ve found us.’ Davey says, dread swelling in his chest. Descending the tall staircase into the lobby are his parents. ‘Shit. Shit, okay.’ 

He turns to Jack, who is already looking at him. 

‘It’s going to be fine.’ Jack says. ‘Do I look okay?’ He asks, genuine worry inflecting his voice. 

It’s only then that Davey properly takes in what Jack is wearing. His jeans are ripped at both knees, and covered in little flecks of paint. Beneath his denim jacket (which, Davey notes with a mixture of dismay and satisfaction, clashes horribly with his jeans), he’s wearing a black muscle-fit t-shirt. He looks - well, he looks like Jack. 

Davey has never understood how he does this, looks good in whatever throws on. He had spent hours that morning trying to figure out what would let him walk the fine line between straight-but-not-too-straight. 

(And, in the end, he had given up, and chosen a turtleneck and brown check trousers.

‘I look like a gay English teacher!’ He’d moaned to Race that morning - to which Race had pointed out, around a mouthful of toast, that he was, in fact, a gay English teacher.)

From Jack’s mussed-up hair, to the scuffs on his sneakers, he looks like exactly the opposite of what his parents would approve of. 

‘You look perfect.’ Davey says, and if Jack flushes a little pink at that, he pretends not to notice. 

‘David! You’re finally here.’ Esther cries,  
and Davey tries his hardest to take no notice of the way she subtly emphasises the ‘finally’ in her sentence. 

‘Hello, mama.’ He says, hugging her stiffly. His father holds out a hand, which he shakes. Before his father can greet him, his mother is already frowning, looking around him in falsely exaggerated gestures. 

‘David, I thought you were bringing a date to the wedding?’ Esther says, visibly disappointed. 

‘I did. This is Jack. My boyfriend.’ Davey says, rather bluntly. 

His parents gape. Then exchange a look. 

‘Nice to meet you.’ Jack extends a hand, and, upon prompting by a cough from Davey, Esther and Mayer shake it in turn. 

‘Are Les and Sarah here?’ Davey asks, quickly changing the subject. 

‘They’re in the rooms next to yours.’ Mayer says, an odd restraint tinging his voice. 

‘Shall we go?’ Davey says to Jack, trying to impress on him the urgency of escaping his parents. Jack, thankfully, seems to understand. 

‘Of course, love.’ Jack says. Davey blinks. Without another word, Jack picks up both their cases, presses a kiss to Davey’s cheek, and leads the way up to their room, leaving Davey’s parents dazed and confused. 

The minute they’re out of sight, Davey collapses against a wall. 

‘You okay?’ Jack asks, frowning. 

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Davey sighs. ‘Just need a moment.’

‘Take all the time you need. That was pretty... intense.’ 

‘You can say that again. Nice job with the cheek kiss.’ He laughs, and tries to ignore the way his stomach flips uncomfortably. 

‘Any time. Like you said, anything that will make them a little bit uncomfortable.’ 

‘Yeah.’ Davey breathes. ‘They were definitely uncomfortable.’ He stays there for just a moment longer, until his breathing has steadied, and his legs feel like they can support his weight somewhat. 

‘Ready to find our room?’ Jack asks. 

‘Yeah, let’s go.’ Davey answers. ‘I need to see Sarah. ‘Let me take my bag, though.’ He reaches out, but Jack holds his bag out of reach, and marches on ahead. 

‘Absolutely not.’ He calls over his shoulder. ‘If I’m gonna be your chivalrous boyfriend, I’m going all the way.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m on tumblr @weisenbachfelded !!


	3. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah wraps her arms around Davey and they hold on to each other. He’ll never get over this, the comfort that she brings him. It had been there ever since they were tiny, and followed him through scraped knees on the playground, teenage arguments, through their coming out to each other. No one knows him like Sarah, and no one can calm him like she can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last chapter i have written already so hopefully posting will force me to write .... we’ll see

Leaving Jack to unpack, Davey goes straight to Sarah’s room, seeking the comfort of his twin sister. He has hardly raised his hand to knock when the door bursts open. Sarah is standing there, blazing with - anger? No, she’s not angry, but she is brandishing her phone like a weapon, unlocked to display her text messages. She points a finger inside, and he follows obediently, feeling strangely like he’s about to be scolded. 

‘Explain to me why Mama just texted me to say that you brought your boyfriend?’ Sarah hisses, slamming the door shut behind her. 

‘It’s lovely to see you too, Sarah.’ Davey says. ‘I actually didn’t really - if you’d just let me explain -‘ 

‘I brought my girlfriend!’ 

Davey’s mouth falls open. 

‘I didn’t know you were coming out to them today! I didn’t even know you were dating someone!’ He surges forwards and hugs her. ‘Congratulations!’ 

Sarah wraps her arms around Davey and they hold on to each other. He’ll never get over this, the comfort that she brings him. It had been there ever since they were tiny, and followed him through scraped knees on the playground, teenage arguments, through their coming out to each other. No one knows him like Sarah, and no one can calm him like she can. 

‘We’re gonna send them to an early grave.’ Sarah says, through a laugh, though Davey can hear the relief in her voice. 

‘Who are you dating?’ Davey asks eagerly. ‘When do I get to meet her?’ 

‘Actually -‘ Sarah breaks off, blushing a little. ‘Actually, you’ve met her. It’s, uh - I’m dating Katherine.’ Her voice goes up at the end, as though she’s asking a question. 

Davey’s mouth falls open again. 

‘Sarah, that’s fantastic! I’m so happy for you.’ He hugs her again, and she pushes him off playfully. 

‘Tell me about the boyfriend!’ She insists. 

‘Right. About that.’ He says, slowly, avoiding eye contact. ‘First of all, he’s not actually my boyfriend. I told mom and dad I was bringing someone so...’ he trails off. 

‘You’re pretending?’ 

Davey nods sheepishly. 

‘Okay...’ Sarah says, evidently unsure of how she’s supposed to react. ‘That sounds... not too bad? Who is it?’

‘Before I tell you, he was not my first choice. And Race pressured me into asking him.’ Davey warns, to which Sarah raises her eyebrows. He sighs. ‘It’s Jack.’

‘Oh, Dave.’ Sarah says, all on an exhale. ‘That’s not good.’

‘I’m aware of that, Sarah.’ He snaps, but immediately feels guilty. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to -‘

She flaps a hand, dismissive. Davey flops down onto the bed, shoulders slumped over. 

‘Does he know?’ She asks. Davey stares at her in disbelief. ‘Right, stupid question. Are you okay with it?’ 

‘Yes?’ He says, but it comes out as a question. ‘Nothing I can do about it now. And he’s pretty good at the whole pretending thing.’ 

Sarah sits down next to him, and pats his arm gently, her eyes pitying. Davey wants the ground to swallow him whole. 

‘Well, at least we’ve both gotten it out of the way.’ Sarah says, a half-hearted smile on her face. ‘Do the rest of the family know yet?’ 

‘No.’ Davey says miserably. ‘I guess they’ll find out soon, though?’ 

Sarah nods. ‘Pre-wedding dinner tonight with the entire family.’ 

‘What the hell is a pre-wedding dinner?’ 

‘How should I know?’ Sarah shrugs. ‘Straight people are weird.’ 

Davey puts his head in his hands. ‘Shit, Saz, maybe this was a mistake. I don’t know if I can come out to all of them at the same time.’ 

Sarah wraps her arms around him sideways, a little awkwardly, and rests her head on his shoulder. 

‘We had to do it sooner or later. And -‘ she breaks off, and Davey thinks she might be a little embarrassed ‘- I’m really glad we get to do it together.’ She mumbles. 

‘I knew it.’ Davey says with a smile. ‘Your best friend is your brother. That’s so lame.’ 

‘What’s lame?’ 

Davey and Sarah both look up, to see Les standing in the doorway. Neither had even noticed him come in, and Davey’s heart, all in a panic, suddenly beats a little faster. He hadn’t even planned out how he was going to tell Les, what he was going to say. How was a fifteen-year-old kid going to react to finding out both his siblings were gay?

‘Les, how did you even get in?’ Sarah asks, frowning. 

‘I met Jack. He taught me how to pick locks.’ Les says with a shrug. 

‘Sorry, Davey. Hey, Sarah!’ Jack says, appearing behind Les, and looking a little sheepish, but mostly pleased with himself. 

‘Why the hell would you teach him that, Jack?’ Davey protests, but he can’t help but smile at the sight of them getting on so well - and in relief that he doesn’t have to introduce them. 

Sarah stands up to greet Jack with a hug. ‘Hey, Jack.’ She ruffles his hair playfully. ‘I see you’ve already met the little monster.’ She jerks a thumb over her shoulder at Les. 

‘You’re so lame, Saz.’ Les says, rolling his eyes. 

Before he can continue, Sarah has him in a headlock. 

Amidst the chaos, the door to the hotel room opens again, and in comes Katherine. She stops short at the sight of the four of them, and sighs. 

‘I should’ve known it was you lot. The whole hall can hear you fighting.’ Kath rolls her eyes. Davey watches the way her gaze lingers on Sarah, fond and gentle. 

‘Katherine!’ Les cries from where he’s still in Sarah’s grip. ‘Make her let me go!’ 

‘Absolutely not. I’m still annoyed at you for stealing my chocolate.’ Kath sticks her tongue out at Les, and turns to Davey. ‘Hey, Dave!’

‘Hey, Kath.’ He says, and gives her a quick hug. ‘Uh, you know Jack. Obviously.’ 

‘I sure do.’ Katherine greets him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

‘I gotta say, I did not expect to see you here.’ Jack says, shaking his head. 

‘I could say the same about you.’ Kath raises her eyebrows. ‘Are you two...?’ 

‘Yeah.’ Jack says, with a sideways glance at Davey. 

‘Only recently, though.’ Davey adds, hurriedly. He looks over at Les, still struggling against Sarah’s grip. His heart steadies itself, no longer terrified at what his younger brother might say. 

‘Well, I’m happy for you.’ Katherine says, slowly, looking between the two of them suspiciously. Davey will have to tell her - that is, if Sarah doesn’t get there first - but, for the sake of maintaining the charade in front of Les, he takes Jack’s hand. It is just an intertwining of fingers, little more than a comforting touch, but it only serves to deepen the frown on Kath’s forehead. 

‘Uh - thanks.’ Davey says. ‘Shall we - shall we go? Back to our room?’ He says pointedly to Jack. 

‘Yeah, okay.’ Jack says, holding his gaze. Davey knows that he understands him, just from that look. ‘See you guys around.’ 

The other three wave them off. Sarah even releases Les so that she can say goodbye, but he immediately tackles her to the ground with a vicious war cry. Katherine just laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just lOVE SARAH AND KATH !!!!!!


	4. iv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There had been no particular lightning-strike moment, just a gradual realisation - as he had watched Jack talk, watched him laugh, watched him show off, blowing smoke rings to a small audience on the balcony - that Jack Kelly was in his life to throw a spanner in the works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how i feel abt this chapter. hm.
> 
> anyway tw for implied/referenced homophobia

‘A pre-wedding dinner. What the fuck is a pre-wedding dinner?’ 

‘Davey, stop.’ Jack says, from where he’s laying on the bed. ‘You’ll worry yourself sick.’ 

‘You sound like my mother.’ Davey says darkly. He doesn’t stop pacing the floor, back and forth, lulling himself into a soothing rhythm. He knows that Jack isn’t telling him to stop pacing - he knows that the repetitive rhythm of it is calming, grounding. But, still, Jack has a point. He already feels nauseous with worry, unable to focus on anything but the steady pacing of his feet and the softness of the carpet beneath him. 

‘It won’t be so bad. We’ll just stay together.’ Jack says. 

(Davey doesn’t look over at Jack. For one, he’s lying on the bed - the huge, soft, double bed, that they’re both going to spend the next two nights in. Together.)

‘I’m just scared, Jack.’ Davey says, for what feels like the millionth time this hour. 

To his credit, Jack still responds as though it’s the first time he’s heard it (and not the thousandth). 

‘It’s okay that you’re scared. Worst thing that happens, we escape back up here and watch reality TV all evening.’ 

Davey has to admit, that does sound appealing. Much more so than a coming-out dinner with the entirety of his extended family. 

There’s a gentle knock on their door. Davey’s head snaps up to stare, and he stops his pacing. Jack jumps up from the bed and goes to open it, Davey murmuring his thanks from where he’s frozen to the spot. 

He listens to Jack and Katherine’s quiet murmurs, to the soft laugh they share, before the door clicks shut again. 

‘That was Kath.’ Jack says, as he walks back into the room. ‘We’re going down in five. Hey, do you think I should change?’ 

‘Five minutes? Okay.’ Davey says. ‘And no, you look fine. Well. They might be expecting something more formal.’ He considers for a moment. ‘That doesn’t mean we have to wear something more formal, though.’ 

Jack nods, thoughtfully. 

*

Davey hadn’t thought it could get any easier to fake-date Jack. 

He’d had a crush on him for almost as long as he’d known him. He could pinpoint the exact night: a party in Race’s dorm, back when they were all in college. He and Jack had been making small-talk in the kitchen, dodging couples left, right, and centre, and, as they did so, pointing out their mutual friends, glued to each other by the mouth. 

There had been no particular lightning-strike moment, just a gradual realisation - as he had watched Jack talk, watched him laugh, watched him show off, blowing smoke rings to a small audience on the balcony - that Jack Kelly was in his life to throw a spanner in the works. 

Being friends with Race had automatically granted Davey friendships with their siblings, it seemed, and so Jack became, to Davey’s simultaneous delight and dismay, a recurring figure in his life. It was thanks to Jack and Davey’s friendship that their respective groups had integrated fairly seamlessly into each other. And, as he saw steadily more and more of Jack, Davey’s (self-professedly pathetic) crush became steadily more difficult to shake off. 

And tonight, it had never been easier to be infatuated with Jack Kelly. 

Jack had kept on his ripped jeans and black t-shirt, but opted to throw on his suit jacket over the top. 

(‘What if you spill food on it?’ Davey had asked, trying not to let the worry he felt inflect his voice. ‘What will you wear to the wedding tomorrow?’

‘My pyjamas?’ Jack had offered.)

So no, Davey hadn’t thought it could get any easier to fake-date Jack. And yet, here he is, in a suit jacket and ripped jeans, and with the eyes of everyone who passes lingering on him. 

He watches people’s gaze flick up and down Jack’s body, drink him in, smirk - one guy has the audacity to wink as he passes. Davey grips the fabric of the inside of his pocket, desperately trying to suppress the jealously clawing at the inside of his chest. 

’Can I put my arm round you?’ Jack asks. 

Davey, taken by surprise, takes a moment to respond. 

‘Uh - yeah, sure. Probably a good idea.’ He says, finally, with a shaky laugh.

Jack loops his arm around Davey’s waist, his hand holding gently on to the space where his belt meets his shirt - not too intimate, Davey notes, but enough to deter passers-by from being so blatant in their admiration of Jack. 

There are signs dotted around the hotel, with arrows pointing them in the direction of the ‘Jacobs-Melman wedding’. They stop outside the dining hall. The sound of muffled laughter and chatter filters out from inside, and Davey stiffens at the sound. 

‘Deep breaths.’ Jack says, squeezing him ever so gently with the arm round his waist. 

Davey is about to open his mouth to berate Jack for being annoying, when he realises he’s holding his breath, and has no air to spend on snapping at him. He exhales all in a huff. 

‘You ready?’ Jack asks. 

‘As I’ll ever be.’ Davey replies, and together, they push open the doors and step into the dining hall. 

A maze of tables is set out, with a couple at the centre - Jack can only assume it’s Davey’s cousin, Benji, and his fiancée, a mousy girl whose name Jack has already forgotten. 

Dozens of pairs of eyes flick up to them as they enter the room. Judging by the slight hush that falls, and by the way Esther and Mayer are staring intently at their cutlery, there’s little need for the actual act of coming out that Davey so feared. 

Jack feels Davey tense at his side, shoulders drawn up. Desperate to get them away from the spotlight, he gives a half-hearted wave to the room at large, and marches them over to where Kath, Sarah, and Les are sitting. The murmur of noise strikes back up again, though most people’s gazes follow them to their seats. 

He watches as Davey gravitates towards Sarah, and she takes his hand, whispering something comforting to him. Jack takes a seat next to him - opposite Les, and Davey’s parents. 

‘Hello again.’ He says to Esther and Mayer, with another awkward little wave. They both greet him - admirably cordially, he thinks. Thankfully, Katherine leans round the back of Sarah and Davey’s chairs to strike up a conversation with him. 

‘Thank god you’re here.’ She says, voice low so as not to be overheard by any of the other Jacobses. ‘You two got lucky. When we came in, total silence. They all just stared at us.’

‘That’s awful.’ Jack says, with a frown. ‘Are you okay?’ 

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Kath says, with a wave of her hand. ‘It’s part of the deal, with this family.’ 

‘Yeah, I’m starting to see that.’ Jack breathes.

Before he can continue, there’s food arriving, and the whole table is swept up in distraction. The food is good, sure, but he can focus on little else but Davey. The way he grips his knife and fork as he eats, the way his shoulders are bunched up almost to his ears, the way his leg is bouncing in what Jack recognises to be a comforting rhythm. He wants to reach out, to hold Davey, even just to touch him, to reassure him. 

‘So, what do you do, Jack?’ 

Esther’s question catches him off-guard. He stutters for a moment, before finally gathering the words to answer. 

‘I’m an artist, ma’am.’ He replies. ‘A painter.’

‘Oh, really?’ She asks. He isn’t sure if she’s genuinely interested, or merely feigning. ‘What kind of thing?’ 

‘Landscapes are my favourite. I paint backdrops for my mom’s stage shows, sometimes, and I do a bit of graphic design too, to pay the bills.’ 

‘How lovely.’ Esther says, with a smile. 

‘He’s really good.’ Davey says, taking Jack by surprise. ‘His paintings are brilliant. You know the one up in my hallway?’

‘I like that one.’ Mayer chips in, with a thoughtful nod.

‘Yeah, that was a present. From Jack.’ Davey says. Jack smiles. He’d almost forgotten about that - a birthday gift from a few years back, a small painting of Davey and Sarah in the park, just blobs of colour against a green background, really. 

He remembers spending hours starting over again and again, sketching idea after idea, only to crumple them up and throw them away. He had convinced himself it was artists block, although he remembers with astonishing clarity the worry, the determination, to paint something Davey would like. He hadn’t even thought Davey had kept it, moving in and out of several dorms and apartments. The thought makes his chest feel heavy and warm. 

*

The rest of the meal passes with little of note except for the stifling small talk between him, Katherine, and the Jacobs parents. In between the main course and dessert, Davey’s cousin stands and makes a speech, droning on and on about his fiancée. 

‘If this is only the pre-wedding dinner, I’ll need a lot more than champagne to get me through the wedding.’ Jack mutters under his breath. Davey snorts with laughter, and they both giggle together. It makes Jack feel oddly self-satisfied. 

*

Davey is so certain he’s made it through to the end, when, halfway through dessert, they are ambushed. 

‘How did you meet Dave?’ Les asks Jack, through a mouthful of cake and ice cream. 

‘Les, don’t talk with your mouth full.’ Esther chides him, not looking up from her own food. Davey can tell she’s trying to push the conversation firmly away from this topic. For once, he‘s grateful for her trying.

Les makes a show of swallowing his mouthful, and asks Jack the same question again. Davey tenses. Jack touches their knees together beneath the table, a gentle reassurance. 

‘We met through friends.’ Jack says to Les, with a shrug. ‘Davey‘s friends with my sibling, so we got introduced like that. It’s boring, I know. Sorry, kid.’ 

‘Oh.’ Les says, and takes another big spoonful of dessert. ‘Why do you like him? Hey!’ Les rubs the back of his head where Sarah has just smacked him gently upside it. 

‘Don’t be mean, Les.’ Sarah chastises. 

‘I’m not! I’m just interested.’ Les protests. 

‘It’s okay, Sarah.’ Davey says. It is his turn to press his knee against Jack’s, a silent reassurance that he doesn’t have to answer. 

Jack, to his surprise, places a hand over Davey’s, where it is lying on the table. Davey pretends not to notice the way his mother’s eyes narrow, staring at it. 

‘There’s just something about him.’ Jack says, with a small smile. ‘He’s funny, and he’s smart, and kind. Like - I don’t know. When we were in college, Davey was always round at mine, hangin’ out with my sibling. I’d be up at all hours of the night finishin’ off paintings or essays, or something like that. And he’d always come and bring me tea, or coffee, or just sit and talk to me. Make sure I wasn’t workin’ myself to death.’ 

Davey’s mouth feels dry. He hasn’t ever heard Jack talk like this, hadn’t even known he’d thought anything of those nights. 

‘Anyway.’ Jack says, dismissively. ‘Those kinda little things meant a lot. They were how I always knew Davey was -‘ Jack breaks off, as though he’s not sure he wants to finish his sentence. ‘- special.’ 

Something about the uncertainty in Jack’s voice makes it clear that he hadn’t intended to finish his sentence like that. 

‘Well, I can tell he likes you a lot.’ Les says, thoughtfully. ‘He lets you call him Davey. Hardly anyone gets to call him that.’

‘Is that so?’ Jack says, raising an eyebrow at Davey. He can tell he’s going to be questioned on this later, but for now, Davey just shrugs, and smiles weakly. 

Around them, Davey hears the scraping of chairs, and he hurries to stand up, almost tripping in his haste. Jack catches him with a hand on his waist, steadying him. Dizziness he hadn’t even known was there sends him off-balance. Davey wobbles a little, and grabs Jack’s hand with his own. 

‘Whoa there.’ Jack says, with a smile. ‘Be careful.’

‘Sorry. Thank you.’ Davey stammers. 

‘Hey, no need to apologise.’ Jack says, under his breath. ‘It’s okay. Need any help?’ 

‘No.’ Davey says, all on an exhale. ‘Wait - yes. Please.’ 

Jack wraps an arm around him, to look to an outsider like an embrace, but enough to hold Davey steady. Davey takes a deep breath, in and out, and feels himself relax a little. 

‘Good night, mama. Papa.’ Davey says, and waves goodbye to his siblings. ‘Let’s go, Jack.’ With that, he presses a kiss to the underside of Jack’s jaw, so softly that Jack hardly registers it. As quickly as he can, Davey leads them back to their room, his weight still heavily on Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave me a comment and ill love u forever! or come and say hello on tumblr @weisenbachfelded


	5. v

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davey is sitting on the bed when he comes out, tucked in under the covers, reading his book in the low light. They hadn’t really addressed the whole there-only-being-one-bed thing, and now doesn’t quite seem like the right time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a crappy filler chapter but oh well we gotta get through this before the good stuff comes :))  
> tw for davey having a panic attack at the beginning but it’s not too intense or detailed. stay safe x

The moment they reach their room, Davey collapses onto the floor, leaning back against the side of the bed. Jack bolts the door quickly, and crouches down next to him. 

Davey is sitting with his head tilted back, eyes closed, breathing steadily through his nose. 

‘Can I do anything, Davey?’ Jack asks, quietly. 

‘Hand.’ Davey says, and Jack can tell it’s a struggle for him to get the words out. He obliges, holding out a hand, which Davey takes, an anchor to reality. They sit for a while, Jack listening to Davey’s steady breaths, watching him intently. Jack knows when he’s okay again, because all of the tension releases from his body and his eyes flutter open. 

‘Sorry.’ He mumbles, pulling his hand back. ‘Super clammy.’ He laughs a little. 

‘’S’okay.’ Jack says. ‘You okay now? Can I get you some water, or anything?’ 

‘Yeah, water would be good.’ Davey smiles weakly, and Jack heads to the bathroom. He brings back a glass of water, and Davey’s suitcase in one hand. 

‘Figured you might wanna change?’ Jack says, holding up the suitcase. 

‘Thanks, Jack.’ Davey says, sipping the water. Colour slowly returns to his face, his shoulders dropping from where they were taught, drawn up to his ears. 

Jack opens the suitcase, holding up items, and letting Davey direct him where to put them - suit jacket and shirt hung up in the wardrobe, book on the bedside table. He reaches his pyjamas, finally, and hands them to Davey. 

‘I’ll, uh.’ Jack points a thumb awkwardly behind him. ‘I’ll go change in the bathroom.’ 

*

Jack spends a little too long in the bathroom - brushing his teeth, washing his face, changing into his pyjamas all at a snails pace - to give Davey enough time. 

Davey is sitting on the bed when he comes out, tucked in under the covers, reading his book in the low light. They hadn’t really addressed the whole there-only-being-one-bed thing, and now doesn’t quite seem like the right time. 

Davey looks up at Jack when he hears the bathroom door open, and smiles a little. He’s wearing a worn-out grey t-shirt, way too big for his lanky frame, and his glasses. Jack’s only ever seen him in his glasses a few times, and he’s never quite been able to explain the way it makes him feel a little warm beneath his collar. He swallows hard. 

‘How you doin’, Davey?’ He asks. 

Davey sighs, and puts his book down, forefinger between the pages to save it. 

‘I’m okay. I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.’ 

‘Never be sorry.’ Jack says, sternly. ‘God knows I’ve had enough panic attacks in my time. Did I help? Or was I just annoying?’

‘No, you helped.’ Davey laughs a bit at that, although Jack isn’t quite sure what he finds funny. ‘Wasn’t really part of the job description, though. I’m sorry I’m handling everything worse than I thought.’ 

Jack tucks himself into bed next to Davey, a pillow behind his back so he can sit up. 

‘I really don’t mind, Dave. I’m just happy I can make it all a bit easier.’ He reaches out and pats Davey’s arm, a little awkwardly. 

Davey looks up at him, an odd look in his eyes. Jack feels his heart stammer and grind to a halt, feels his breath stop short. He’d never quite noticed just how blue Davey’s eyes are - a little more grey around the centre, stormy and intense. 

He pulls back his arm as though he’d been burned. ‘I’m gonna - I’m gonna sleep now.’ 

‘Okay.’ Davey says, with a puzzled smile. ‘Do you mind if I read for a bit longer?’ 

‘No problem. I can sleep even with the light on. Stay up as long as you want. Not too long, though! Make sure you get some rest!’ Jack stops himself before he can continue with his babbling. 

‘Alright, Jackie.’ Davey says softly. The gentleness of his voice sends a warm glow spreading through Jack’s chest.

‘Goodnight, Davey.’ He says, clicking his bedside light off. He lays down on his side, turned so that he’s facing away from Davey. He tells himself it’s so that he’s facing away from the light. 

‘Goodnight, Jack.’ 

He doesn’t sleep. He listens, drinking in every page-turn, every rustle of the bedclothes, every stifled yawn that Davey makes, until he hears the other bedside light click off, and the blankets shift ever so slightly. 

Davey lays down on his side, turned so that he’s facing away from Jack. Their backs brush together, very gently. Davey murmurs a quiet apology, and Jack wonders, ever so briefly, if he knows he’s still awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are my lifeblood,,, like pixie dust or claps or something idk. pls leave one!!!


	6. vi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just love writing this fic SO MUCH!! hopefully ur enjoying it as much as i am

Jack wakes up late the next morning, bright light filtering in through the curtains, and an empty space beside him in bed. For a moment, he worries, but reassures himself that Davey must be with Sarah. He tries not to feel too disappointed, or to think for too long about what Davey might look like with sleep-mussed hair. 

As he gets dressed, he can’t help but stare at the spot that Davey slept in, where the mattress is pressed down a little beneath the indent in the shape of his body. He wonders if they had stayed in the same position the entire night. For the first time, he’s frustrated that he’s such a deep sleeper. Had they turned to face each other at all? Had they shared the same space? What had happened when Davey woke up? Had he disentangled himself from Jack, or had he simply gotten out of bed without a single thought of him? 

Jack feels a little nauseous. There is a niggling feeling low in his gut, a bothersome itch that won’t go away. He puts on the same jeans as the day before, and pretends his doesn’t know exactly what the feeling means. 

*

He goes down to breakfast, where a few stragglers are still eating. However, he’s met with narrow-eyed stares from a group of people with Davey’s dark hair and blue-grey eyes, so he just grabs a bread roll, and makes a u-turn back upstairs. 

He doesn’t go to his room, but rather knocks on the adjacent door, and is greeted by Kath, still in her pyjamas. 

‘Hey, Kath.’ He says, trying to look subtly over her shoulder and discern whether or not Davey is in her room. 

‘Morning, Jack.’ She says, stifling a yawn. He must not be as subtle as he had thought, because she adds, ‘David’s gone for a walk. He told me to tell you since you probably wouldn’t see the note and freak out.’ 

He hadn’t seen the note, although, to his credit, he hadn’t freaked out at Davey being gone. Well, not much, anyway. 

Jack glowers at her for knowing him so well, and then realises that, actually, it’s Davey who knows him better than he had thought. He doesn’t know what to think of that. 

‘So, Sarah told me.’ Katherine says, as Jack sits down on her bed. 

‘Oh.’ Jack says. He can’t think of anything else to say. 

‘Whose idea was it?’ She asks. 

‘Race’s.’ 

‘Makes sense. Why did you agree?’ 

‘This is feelin’ a lot like an interrogation.’ 

Katherine shrugs. ‘I’m just interested. It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you or Davey would do.’ 

‘Yeah, well. It was a bad situation. He needed my help.’ Jack still doesn’t look at her. 

‘Oh.’ Katherine says, her mouth staying in the round shape, as though her mind is ticking like clockwork, still catching up. 

‘Oh, what?’ Jack says, immediately defensive. 

‘You like him, don’t you?’ Katherine breathes. 

‘I...’ Jack shrugs, awkwardly. ‘A bit? I guess.’

‘Oh, Jack, why on earth would you agree to this?’ 

‘I think he’s cute, Kath. It ain’t a big deal.’ 

‘Really?’ Katherine looks sceptical. 

‘Yes, really.’ He mimics. ‘It’s not like it’s ever gonna happen. It’s not even like I want it to! I don’t like him that much!’

‘From the way you’ve been looking at him, I’d say you like him a bit more than that.’ 

‘What do you mean? I ain’t been looking at him.’ 

‘You’re kidding, right?’ 

‘No! I don’t like him that much!’ Jack repeats. 

‘Jack, I’ve spent less than a day with the two of you, and in that time you’ve probably spent about two minutes not looking at him.’ 

Jack thinks for a moment. She does have a point, he supposes - when he thinks of the last day, he remembers nothing but Davey. 

Davey on the drive there, singing along to whatever crappy music they had on. Davey play-fighting Sarah and Les the night before, throwing Les over his shoulder and laughing when they all fell in a heap on the floor. Davey with his head bent, talking quietly to Sarah at the dinner table. Davey in bed, reading a worn-out copy of a book with pencil scrawls in the margins. Davey in glasses and an oversized sleep-shirt, smiling up at him tiredly. Davey in the darkness, his back millimetres from Jack’s own, his breathing far too steady for him to be asleep just yet. 

He buries his face in his hands in defeat. ‘He wears glasses, Kath. Did you know he wears glasses?’ 

‘I did not know that -‘

‘I’m gay, Kath! There’s only so much I can deal with and Davey in glasses and pyjamas doing that thing, y’know the thing he does?’

‘I can’t say I do, no -‘

‘With the eyes, and the hair, and the cheekbones, and the freakin’ glasses!’ 

Katherine stays silent for a moment longer, her eyebrows raised, as though asking him whether or not he’s finished. 

‘Listen, Jack, I gotta tell you.’ She sits down next to him, and grimaces. ‘I haven’t seen you this gone on someone since - I don’t know if I’ve _ever_ seen you this gone on someone.’ 

Jack groans and flops back onto the bed. ‘You’re right.’ He says. ‘I’ve made a big fuckin’ mistake with this one.’ 

Kath pats him on the knee, sympathetically. 

*

Davey is in their room when Jack returns, buttoning up his dress shirt and looking in the mirror. Jack’s throat goes dry at the sight of him, shirt untucked and half-buttoned, hair still damp from the shower. He feels a little dizzy. 

‘Hey, Jack.’ He says, smiling at him in his reflection in the mirror. There are familiar worry-lines between his eyebrows. 

‘Hey, Davey. You doin’ okay?’ 

‘Yeah, I’m alright.’ 

Jack can tell that Davey is lying through his teeth, but he doesn’t question it. He takes his own shirt and dress trousers into the bathroom, and changes into them.

He comes out to tie his tie, and watches Davey do the same, still looking intently into the mirror. 

‘Shit. Shit, fuck.’ Davey says, and Jack can tell by his lacing of expletives that he’s not okay. 

Jack looks over to see Davey fumbling with his tie, his hands trembling ever so slightly. 

‘Do you want me to - ?’

‘No, I can fucking do it!’ Davey snaps. 

Jack starts a little at the harshness of his tone. Davey drops down onto the bed, and covers his face with his hands. 

‘I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean to -‘

‘I know.’ Jack reassures him. He walks over to him, and stands in front. ‘Let me do it?’

‘Okay. Yeah, okay.’ Davey breathes, and stands up again. He can feel his hands still shaking at his sides, and he clenches and unclenches his fists, as though somehow that will still them. 

Jack steps close into him, and Davey hopes with everything in him that Jack won’t notice the way his heart is thudding, relentless, against his chest. Jack pops his collar up, and takes his undone tie in both hands. He tries to tie it - once, then undoes it. Twice, and undoes it again, with a frustrated sigh. Davey smiles a little, amused. 

‘This would probably be easier if I was -‘ Jack breaks off, shaking his head as though dismissing a bad idea. 

Davey’s breath catches in his throat at the thought of what Jack is suggesting. He’s glad that he doesn’t suggest it - thinking of Jack, with his arms encircling him, tying his tie from behind, is almost too much to bear. 

With a frustrated noise, Jack unties the knot he has just tied, takes a step back, and squints. 

‘I’m gonna do it this time. This is the one.’ 

‘Okay.’ Davey laughs. Jack steps forwards again, eyes narrowed in concentration as he slowly ties the knot. Davey thinks through the motions in his head as Jack does them - over, round, up, through, down. 

‘There!’ Jack says when he’s done, grinning with pride. ‘I knew I could do it.’ He reaches out and adjusts Davey’s tie, then smooths down his collar, and tucks in a stray bit of the tie that’s still showing beneath it. Davey can’t be sure, but he thinks Jack’s hand lingers for just a fraction of a second, his collar between his fingers. Their eyes meet momentarily, and then Jack steps back and looks away. 

‘Thank you.’ Davey says, a little awkwardly, running a hand over his tie to smooth it down, even though he knows Jack did the same thing moments ago. 

‘No problem.’ Jack can’t meet his eye, and he’s searching for something to do with his hands - running them through his hair, fiddling with his own tie. 

It is then that Davey takes a moment to register the sight of Jack in his suit - and he immediately wishes he hadn’t. If Jack in grubby jeans and a t-shirt managed to be attractive, this was a whole new level. He looks effortlessly charming, his dark hair still messy, and curling around his ears. 

‘How do you do that?’ Davey says, a little more awestruck than he had intended to sound. 

‘Do what?’

‘I don’t know. That.’ Davey gestures at him, up and down. ‘Look like that, in a suit.’

‘Well, that’s coming from you.’ Jack says, with a wry half-smile that Davey can’t quite decipher the meaning of. 

‘Please, Jack. I look like a gay penguin.’ He says, rolling his eyes. 

‘Davey, you look, like, stupidly hot.’ Jack says, and, hardly giving him a moment to process, grabs the room key from the bedside table and heads out. 

Davey is left behind, blinking in his disbelief. His hands are still shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spare comment..?   
> (ill love u forever if u leave one)


	7. vii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack wonders if he should be turning to Davey. That’s what lovers do, isn’t it? At weddings? Almost every couple in the room is mimicking Kath and Sarah, entwined with one another. He drums his fingers against his thigh, itching to reach out and interlace them with Davey’s, where his hand is resting on his leg. But with no-one watching them, he can’t quite justify it. There’s no need to act when they don’t have an audience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact i wrote this chapter before any other bits of the fic and i love it So Much  
> tw for very mild homophobia

As silly as it is, Davey feels as close to invincible as he can get, walking into the wedding with Jack on his arm. He’s still anxious, sure, but there’s a newfound confidence within him, and he simply cannot bring himself to care about the whispers that follow them. He doesn’t even care when his parents walk straight by them with little more than a nod to greet them. 

A few relations stop to say hello - his cousin Rachel, who has always been kind to him; his aunt Helena, who used to sneak him extra snacks at family functions (even if she mixes up his and Sarah’s names). 

Jack plays the part to absolute perfection, sweet and charming with the family members he likes, and cocky and affectionate around the ones he doesn’t. Davey finds himself rather enjoying it, even if it does make his chest tighten when Jack wraps a possessive arm around him every time someone asks Davey _isn’t there a nice girl in the picture?_

*

Jack thinks that the wedding itself is rather lovely, objectively speaking. If he ignores the way that dozens of pairs of eyes follow him and Davey to their seats, and the whispers unsubtly directed at him, Davey, Kath, and Sarah, it’s actually quite nice. Davey’s cousin Benji is waiting, nervously under a canopy - a _chuppah_ , Davey explains - decorated with flowers. As an artist, the whole thing is very pleasing. The theories of colour and layout that his college art professors had tried (to little avail) to drill into him have been strictly adhered to. Everything is in perfect coordination, from the bridesmaids’ dresses to the ribbons on the back of the chairs. 

They stand to usher the bride in, and Jack doesn’t miss the way that Esther’s gaze lingers on Davey, as though she is wallowing deep in self-pity that she will not experience this with her own children. 

(Which, though he doesn’t say it, Jack thinks is all for the better. Davey and Sarah will have weddings, he’s sure, albeit not the kind Esther so desires - only, she will probably find herself excluded from the guest list.) 

The bride looks very beautiful, and Davey’s cousin looks - well, he looks like a third-rate version of Davey, Jack thinks. Benji is sniffling as his bride-to-be meets him at the _chuppah_ , his eyes already red-rimmed with tears. He feels almost mean for thinking it, but Benji is most definitely not an attractive crier. 

Jack leans into Davey to tell him this, and he snorts with laughter. Esther, in front of them, whips her head round, frowning with narrowed eyes. They both pull straight faces until she is no longer looking at them, then burst into giggles. Davey clutches at Jack’s arm as he laughs, and Jack feels a little giddy. 

Davey narrates the ceremony for Jack, quietly translating some of the Yiddish that the rabbi is speaking, or otherwise pointing out members of his family. Jack learns that a _khsunh_ means ‘wedding’, and also that Davey’s aunt Miriam is currently cheating on the husband that she is seated next to, with the groomsman third from the left. 

*

As the couple say their vows, Jack finds himself watching Katherine and Sarah, a row in front of them. Katherine is leant into Sarah’s side, her head tucked into the crook of her girlfriend’s neck. He can’t quite see, but he can tell their hands are twisted together out of sight. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, slotting together in a way Jack’s not sure if he’s ever seen before. As the bride proclaims that yes, she does take this man to be her husband, Sarah turns her head to murmur something in Kath’s ear. 

Jack wonders what it is. A promise? A declaration of love? Perhaps just something funny about how Benji’s best man has his shirt buttoned up wrong. 

Jack wonders if he should be turning to Davey. That’s what lovers do, isn’t it? At weddings? Almost every couple in the room is mimicking Kath and Sarah, entwined with one another. He drums his fingers against his thigh, itching to reach out and interlace them with Davey’s, where his hand is resting on his leg. But with no-one watching them, he can’t quite justify it. There’s no need to act when they don’t have an audience. 

Jack wonders if Davey can read his mind, because he suddenly moves his hand away, out of reach of Jack’s. When Jack finds the courage to look sideways at Davey, his eyes are flitting away, as though he had been staring just a split second before. 

*

The room that had hosted the ceremony is transformed into a ballroom for the reception, and Jack watches as Davey’s family spill out onto the dancefloor. 

‘You wanna dance?’ He asks Davey, even though he knows that there’s a significant chance he’ll spontaneously combust if they do. 

‘Nah.’ Davey says, sitting back in his chair. ‘Too crowded.’ 

Jack nods, understanding, and they both watch Kath, who is already twirling Sarah around, both of them laughing so hard they can barely stand up. 

They are so distracted that they don’t see the small crowd approaching them. 

‘David! I haven’t had a chance to speak to you yet.’ 

Jack looks up to see an elderly man with a shiny bald head approaching them, pointing a finger at Davey, almost accusatory. with a handful of other Jacobses - all of whom either look as though they are there to prevent the elderly man from falling, or who look far too interested in the spectacle of Jack and Davey drinking their champagne. 

Jack can see Esther and Mayer to their left, pretending to be watching the dancing, but each with a hawk-like eye fixated on Jack and Davey. 

‘Hello, Uncle Stefan.’ Davey says tiredly, with a pointed look sideways at Jack. 

‘And this is your -‘ 

Davey’s uncle pauses, turning to face Jack, and he watches in mild amusement as his face contorts, searching for the word he wants to use. 

‘Your partner.’ 

Jack is a little surprised at the liberal choice of words, although it is quickly followed by Stefan mumbling something under his breath that Jack thinks includes the words ‘path of sin’. 

‘Yes, this is my boyfriend, Jack.’ Davey says, remarkably patiently. A small crowd has gathered around them, as though they are the main attraction of the wedding. 

‘Esther says you’re an artist, Jack.’ A cousin pipes up, and Jack is grateful for the change of subject. 

‘Yeah, I am, actually -‘

‘You two live together, then?’ Stefan interrupts, pointing an accusatory finger at the both of them. 

‘Yes, we do. We’ve got a lovely little apartment right off the path of sin.’ Davey says, nonchalantly. Jack almost spits out his champagne. He sets it down nearby to avoid any further accidents. 

Uncle Stefan sputters like a backfiring car engine, at a loss for words. 

‘David!’ Esther hisses, from where she is stood just a few feet away. ‘Do not make a scene!’

‘Me? Make a scene?’ Davey laughs. ‘Really, Mama, I don’t think -‘

‘David, do not speak to your mother like that.’ Mayer butts in, stepping forwards. If anyone in the surrounding crowd hadn’t been paying attention before, they certainly were now. 

At the sound of raised voices, Sarah and Katherine notice them, and begin to make their way over, no doubt to dive into the situation and save them. 

Jack, feeling remarkably calm, puts a hand round Davey’s waist, and kisses him gently on the cheek. 

‘Disgusting. You should be ashamed.’ Jack whips his head round, trying to find the miscellaneous cousin that had said something. 

‘You’re the one who should be ashamed!.’ Jack hears Kath say, from somewhere he can’t see. Beside him, Davey is looking up at him, but he doesn’t look tense, or scared. And Jack has an idea. A terrible idea - but an idea, nonetheless. And when have any of his ideas ever been objectively good ones?

A brief look between them, a tilt to Jack’s head, a raising of one eyebrow. Davey thinks he knows what Jack is asking, so he nods - a tiny movement, almost imperceptible to anyone but them. 

Jack grabs Davey by the tie, reels him in, and crushes their lips together. 

It’s not a nice kiss. 

Well, it is. It’s more than just nice, Davey thinks. Hell, it’s unbelievably good. 

But it’s not sweet, or tender, and certainly not gentle. The kiss is dirty, hot, and desperate, far too intimate for where they are. And, Davey reminds himself, for what they are. For now, however, he simply allows himself to drink in the kiss. 

The hand that Jack had used to pull Davey in is pressed against his chest, curled into the front of his shirt like a claw, hungry and grasping for more. Jack’s other hand is positioned firmly round his waist, pressing Davey far closer than necessary. 

And his mouth - oh, god, the hours that Davey had spent dreaming about that mouth hadn’t done it the slightest bit of justice. Jack is kissing him with everything he has, pulling out every trick he must have in his arsenal. Davey briefly registers that Jack’s tongue is in his mouth, doing things that Davey didn’t even know a person’s tongue could do, things that are making his brain feel fuzzy at the edges, like the way that the air simmers and shifts on a hot day. 

Davey had never thought teeth would feel nice in a kiss, but the way that Jack scrapes his teeth lightly over his bottom lip, biting down ever so gently, sends sparks flying down his spine. He has to choke back a low moan that threatens to give all too much away. 

And he kisses back. Oh, god, does he kiss back - perhaps, he will think, later, a little too enthusiastically. His hands are both wrapped round Jack to rest on the small of his back. More than anything, they are clinging to him, anchoring him, the only thing keeping him from melting at the knees and collapsing. 

All too soon, Jack is pulling back, and Davey comes crashing back down to reality, and remembers where he is. 

Everyone in the vicinity is staring. His mother is clutching her champagne glass so tightly he thinks it might shatter. The vein in his uncle’s forehead looks like it might burst open. At least five mouths are hanging open, and even Katherine (who may have just tried to start a fistfight) looks mildly impressed. 

‘More champagne, Davey?’ Jack asks, deceptively nonchalant. Davey nods, still unable to form words, and follows him away from the crowd and towards the drinks table. 

Jack takes them each a new glass, then looks around, as though searching for something. With a start, he marches off in the direction of the exit. Davey follows him, head still reeling from the kiss. If he thinks hard enough, he can still feel the outline of Jack’s mouth against his. He tries not to think at all. 

They end up outside, round the back of the ballroom where the bins are. The music is muffled, a soft thudding bass echoing distantly. Between that, and the faint trail of cigarette smoke that he can smell, Davey feels like he’s at junior prom again, sneaking a smoke between slow dances with a girl whose name he’s forgotten. He tells Jack as much, and Jack laughs. 

‘I went to junior prom with Katherine.’ He says, by way of a response. 

‘Isn’t she - ‘ 

‘A lesbian? Yeah.’ Jack laughs. ‘She told me that while we were slow dancing. And then I blurted out that I was in love with Spot Conlon.’ 

Davey snorts with laughter. 

‘Sixteen-year-old Jack was in love with Spot Conlon?’ 

‘Don’t laugh at me! He was older, he was hot.’ Jack says, with a reminiscent smile. ‘I was having a terrible sexuality crisis. He was a pretty good first crush.’ 

‘Being in there felt like junior prom all over again.’ Davey admits. ‘People are staring and just... I don’t know. Judging. My mom is basically chaperoning.’ 

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so horrified.’ 

‘I thought she was gonna have a heart attack.’ Davey can’t help but laugh. 

‘I, uh -‘ Jack looks down at his drink, flushed a little red ‘- I’m sorry about - y’know, back there.’ 

‘Don’t apologise!’ Davey says, hastily. He regrets it almost immediately, terrified it will come across as actual enthusiasm. ‘I mean - it was pretty good to see my entire family that scandalised.’

‘Well, just let me know if another scandal is needed.’ Jack says, and he knows he’s pushing their teasing a little too far, knows that the last few days, while they’ve been on edge, have not been anything more than a falsehood. 

Davey laughs, and drains his glass of champagne. From inside, Jack thinks he hears Katherine call their names. He tells Davey so, seizing the opportunity to escape their being alone together before he says something else stupid. He dashes back inside before Davey can see the flush that is rising on his cheeks. He hopes Davey will pin it on the champagne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sending u all the MOST love bcos this fic is one of the only things bringing me happiness rn. fingers crossed it brings you a little bit too!


	8. viii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn’t write for a week and then wrote all this at once at 11pm i hope ur all happy (im kidding i love this chapter and i hope u do too)  
> (i’m not kidding about the 11pm thing tho im ten seconds from falling asleep whY do i do this!!)

‘Thank god, there you are.’ Katherine says to Davey when they go back in. She and Sarah are skirting around the edge of the ballroom, as though they are simultaneously trying to avoid every single person in the room at once. Which, Davey supposes, they are. He doesn’t blame them. 

‘Did we miss anything?’ Jack asks, half-joking. 

‘Katherine punched a cousin, Stefan might have had an aneurysm, Mama had to go and have a lie down.’ Sarah deadpans. ‘Benji fell in the punch bowl, too, but that was unrelated.’ 

Davey can see Benji wringing out his suit jacket and _kippah_ , both of which are soaking wet, while his wife pretends not to notice. There is a large purple stain on the back of his clean white shirt. 

‘Hold on, aneurysm?’ Jack asks, frowning. 

‘She’s exaggerating.’ Katherine says, rolling her eyes. ‘He passed out for, like, two seconds. He didn’t even hit the ground. The cousin I punched was unconscious for longer than he was.’ 

‘Jesus, Kath!’ Jack says, with a laugh.

‘Is he okay?’ Davey asks. 

‘Yeah, yeah, he’s fine. He loves the attention.’ Sarah says. Over by the upturned punch bowl, Stefan is sitting, accompanied by an assortment of relatives who appear to be waiting on him, hand and foot. He is glowering at the four of them. 

‘I hate this family.’ Sarah says through gritted teeth, a smile plastered on her face, as she waves at Stefan. 

‘You can say that again.’ Davey sighs. 

‘I hate this -‘ 

‘Shut up, Saz.’ 

Sarah just laughs, and takes Katherine by the elbow, pulling her onto the dancefloor. Davey worries for a moment that they are going to face more harassment, but they dance together so vigorously that everyone within a meter’s radius backs away, looking a little scared. Katherine and Sarah are laughing, already, as they twirl each other around in a way that looks like it is familiar to them. Davey’s gut twists, conflicted between happiness for his sister and a deep, hollow sense of longing. 

‘We can dance, if you want?’ 

Jack must see Davey staring, because there is what sounds like pity in his voice. 

‘I - you know how to dance?’ Davey responds with a question, eager to divert him. 

‘You think any son of Medda Larkin’s is gonna get away with not knowing how to dance?’ Jack grins. ‘I went to classes as a kid. I can tango, foxtrot, and waltz.’ 

‘Impressive.’ Davey says. He can hardly walk five paces without tripping over his feet. 

‘I mean it. We should dance.’ 

‘I don’t want to dance just to piss people off.’ Davey says, a little too bluntly. He winces. ‘Sorry. I just mean -‘

‘I know, I know.’ Jack dismisses him. 

They are silent for a moment - a moment that stretches out for far too long, until Davey puts down his champagne glass, and tells Jack that he’s going to find a bathroom. 

*

He just stands by the sink and stares at himself in the mirror. He’s still in shock from the kiss, his lips still feel like they’re tingling, vibrating with the sheer memory of Jack’s touch. 

He half-expects himself to dissolve into another panic attack - god knows, he’s had enough of them staring into bathroom mirrors with his hands gripping either side of a sink for support. To his surprise, he finds himself far from it, firmly in a state of glossy calm. It has something to do with Jack, he thinks - and not just because -

Not just because he’s -

Not just because he is Davey and Jack is Jack. Davey has seen it enough times to know that Jack is like this with everybody, a calming force that settles nerves and tempers alike. He knows that the tiny little creases between Jack’s eyebrows have gained their permanence through his constant worried frown. He knows the way that Jack puts everyone he knows before himself, knows the way that his every word, every motion, every choice, is made in the belief that it is for the good of somebody else. Davey wonders if Jack has anybody who does that for him. 

He washes his hands, because the hotel has fancy soap and lotion, and he dries them on one of the fancy hand towels. Despite his lack of panic, his body is still screaming at him not to go back to the ballroom, not to face his hundreds of family members.

As soon as he steps in, it feels like he has been slapped across the face with noise and light. He blinks, hard, allowing himself a moment to adjust. In the centre of the dancefloor, Benji is slow-dancing with his wife, who is holding him almost at arm’s length so that his punch-soaked jacket doesn’t get her dress damp. Nevertheless, they look happy. They both have this weird dreamy look in their eyes, as though they have each had some kind of a hex put on them that has detached them from reality, only together. 

Nearby, Katherine is slow-dancing with Sarah. They are intertwined so closely that Davey can hardly tell where Katherine ends and Sarah begins, the only clue being the darker skin of Katherine’s fingers where their hands are laced together. Katherine has her head on Sarah’s shoulder, and her eyes closed. She has that same dreamy expression, only Davey understands it a little better when he sees it on her. Sarah has one arm around Katherine’s waist, her hand resting on the small of her back, subconsciously rubbing circles there. Sarah’s cheek is resting on top of Katherine’s head, and they are swaying gently from side to side, hardly a dance, but a thousand times more elegant and graceful than any other couple there. 

Davey’s gaze comes to rest on Jack, stood in the same place he had left him. He has one hand resting against the wall, and his head is tilted to one side, listening to a girl speak to him. Davey doesn’t recognise her - he supposes that she must be a relative of the bride. She’s very pretty, with long, auburn hair, and lips painted bright red. Jack is giving her the same half-smile that Davey has seen him give many a person at a bar, right before they disappear into the same cab. 

Davey thinks that he might be sick. That feels selfish, though, so he swallows, and shuts his eyes briefly. Jack can sleep with whoever he wants. Jack can do whatever he wants. Jack isn’t his boyfriend. Jack isn’t _his_. Full stop. 

He feels a little lost, all of a sudden, and very small, standing up against this ocean of people. 

It is at that moment that Jack happens to look up, and spots him. It isn’t much, just a fleeting glance. His half-smile spreads into a full one though, and Davey watches him turn back to the girl biting his lip, to hold back the smile. Davey isn’t quite sure what it means, but he walks over to Jack nonetheless. 

*

Jack feels a little guilty, spinning out this spider’s web of a lie far further than it needs to go. 

Well, technically, not all of what he’s saying is a lie. And it’s not like Maggie hadn’t asked. She had introduced herself as the bride’s cousin, and confessed to him that she had been rather impressed by his and Davey’s bravery, and _how did the two of them meet, anyway?_

Okay, so perhaps her question hadn’t quite warranted him telling her that he thought Davey’s eyes were like oceans, only better. _Maybe_ it hadn’t warranted his use of the sentence _I would unpick the fabric of the universe if it made him happy_. 

He was a romantic at heart! If, hypothetically, he was actually dating Davey, that would be a thing that he would say. Hypothetically. And, to her credit, Maggie seems to be fairly interested, asking him follow-up questions about their first date, and what he likes most about Davey. 

(He had told her that they went to an art gallery. Which wasn’t strictly a lie, because he and Davey went to art galleries all the time. Davey always saved fliers of exhibitions that he thought Jack would like, and it was only fair that he took Davey along with him to go see them.)

(He had also told her that he liked Davey’s unparalleled kindness best. And, yeah, maybe he hadn’t needed to use those exact words. Or launch into a speech about how Davey took care of him, and worried about him, even though he had all sorts of his own things to worry about, because that was just the kind of person Davey was; a person who sent him things that reminded him of Jack, a person who called him after Race had a hard day because that was hard on Jack too, a person who ordered takeout to his house on days he was working on art projects, because he knew that Jack would forget to eat.) 

But all of that is beside the point. He notices Davey come back in out of the corner of his eye, and fumbles to change the subject before Davey walks over to them. He doesn’t quite manage, greeting Davey with a stammer and a sheepish smile. 

Davey, to his surprise, wraps an arm around his waist, and introduces himself to Maggie with a stony expression. 

‘Shall we dance?’ Davey asks him, already tugging him away. 

‘Uh - yeah, we can - it was nice meeting you, Maggie! - I thought you didn’t want to -‘

‘Changed my mind.’ Davey mumbles. 

‘Okay then.’ Jack says with a laugh, and loops his arms around Davey’s neck. Davey loops his arms around Jack’s waist, but doesn’t quite meet his gaze. 

‘She seemed nice.’ Davey says, his voice a little strained. He is tense, rocking from side to side in a way that can’t be comfortable or enjoyable. 

‘She was very nice.’ Jack chuckles. ‘C’mere, loosen up a bit. She’s the bride’s cousin.’

‘Oh.’ Davey says. He doesn’t loosen up. 

‘Stop rocking.’ Jack says, and pulls Davey a bit closer. ‘Let me lead.’ 

Jack takes one of Davey’s hands, holding it in between them, and uses it to steer them in a gentle circle, swaying as they go. 

‘You ever slow-danced with someone before?’ Jack asks. Davey shakes his head. ‘You’re missin’ out.’ 

Davey wants to point out that surely he’s not, because he’s slow-dancing with Jack right now, but he somehow doesn’t think that that’s the right response. 

‘Used to slow-dance with Mama in the kitchen. She’d let me stand on her feet, when I was little enough.’ Jack smiles, wistfully. 

‘It’s nice.’ Davey says, and Jack feels him relax a little. He’s still not looking at Jack, and he follows his gaze, to Sarah and Katherine, dancing together, not far from them. 

Jack doesn’t say anything. He wonders if Davey is jealous - not of either of them, but of what they have. Of their carefreeness. He wants desperately to hold Davey even closer to him, to reassure him that he, too, will have that, one day. Somehow, he doesn’t think that is the right response, so he doesn’t say anything. 

They dance like that until the song fades out, and Jack waits for Davey to blink back into reality, to pull away from him. But he doesn’t, and so Jack simply continues to steer them in a small circle, as the music bleeds into one long track, and Jack drifts into a dream-like separation from reality. 

*

They don’t speak as they get ready for bed, both of them tired and heady from the champagne. Jack can hear giggling from outside the door, and thinks that it must be Sarah and Katherine, only just now leaving the dancefloor. He understands, just a little, the heartache that Davey must feel when he sees them. He has never seen a love like theirs, not in all his years alive. They have, in two days, shown him more about what he thinks love should be than anyone else has in all his twenty-three years. 

That night, though they start out with their backs facing each other, they both turn over at the same time, finding themselves nose-to-nose. They burst out laughing, giddy with fatigue, until Davey whispers into the darkness. 

‘Do you mind if I -‘ 

Jack feels Davey’s hand ghosting over his arm, a silent question. 

‘Yeah, of course.’ Jack breathes, even though he knows that the wording of it doesn’t actually answer the exact question that Davey is asking. He gives himself credit, though, for even being able to form words as his brain short-circuits at Davey’s touch. 

Davey wraps an arm around him, and Jack moves in close, his head burrowed into Davey’s chest. He listens, feels the rise and fall of his breaths, waits until they become perfectly even. 

He lies awake for what feels like hours after, entranced by the slow, steady beating of Davey’s heart, and frozen to the spot by Davey’s comforting arm around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave me a comment and as a present u can have my 11 overdue assignments!!1!!!!! (really though. comments are the best and i will lOVE you for leaving one)


	9. ix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello it feels like i haven’t updated this in ages but actually it’s probably only been like a week .....?  
> anyway! while ur here go and read my latest kath-centric newsbians/javey fic!! it’s got domesticity and found family and lots and lots of katherine what more could u want??

When Jack wakes up the next morning, it’s barely light, and the faint glow of the alarm clock tells him it’s far too early to be awake. He makes to turn over onto his other side, when he becomes suddenly very aware of the arm wrapped around his waist. 

He doesn’t turn around entirely, not wanting to disturb Davey, but, at his movement, Davey shifts a little, and sighs. Jack can feel his breath tickle the back of his neck. He covers his mouth to hide his smile - although, who he is hiding it from, he isn’t quite sure. 

Davey is curled around him, his chest resting gently against Jack’s back. His legs are bent in the same shape as Jack’s are, so they slot neatly together. His face is resting in the crook of Jack’s neck, as though he is trying to burrow as close as he possibly can. 

Ever so gently, Jack cranes his head around to check whether he has woken Davey up. He looks incredibly peaceful, his lashes so long that they brush very gently against his cheeks. There is a light dusting of freckles across his nose, right at the point that scrunches up whenever he smiles. His lips are slightly parted, and Jack’s heart rate speeds up just a little at the memory of how they felt pressed against his the night before. Davey’s hair is falling across his eyes into his face, and Jack wants desperately to reach out and brush it out of the way. 

He almost does, but before he can, Davey’s hair falls down even further, tickling his nose. He jolts awake with a murmured protest, scrunching up his nose and clumsily shaking his head. His eyes flutter half-open, and he frowns a little to see Jack staring. 

‘What time?’ He mumbles, still too sleepy to string words together. 

‘Early.’ Jack replies, with a soft smile. ‘Six, maybe.’ 

‘Okay.’ Davey says, through a yawn. He stretches out, and for a moment, Jack thinks he’s going to get up, so he turns over, laying on his side facing towards Davey. 

Davey doesn’t get up - and he doesn’t seem to have noticed Jack moving, because he settles back down in the same position, an arm slung over Jack’s side, his face nestled where, a moment ago, it would have been resting against the nape of his neck. Now that Jack has moved, though, Davey’s face lands right in front of his, their noses almost touching. 

Blinking sleepily, his reactions slow and drawn out, Davey starts back a little, with a mumbled apology. 

‘’S’okay.’ Jack says, laughing softly. ‘Hang on, let me get comfy.’ He shifts, so that he is lying on his back, careful not to dislodge Davey’s arm around his waist. 

‘Can you move your -‘ Davey says, nudging Jack’s arm. 

‘Just lift -‘ Jack in turn nudges Davey’s head up, so that he can snake his arm beneath it. 

‘Let me -‘

‘If you put your -‘

Jack pats his chest with a floppy hand. Davey, despite his tiredness, seems to understand, and places his head gently on Jack’s chest. 

‘Good?’ Jack asks. 

‘Good.’ Davey says, and, if Jack didn’t know better, he would say that Davey is suppressing a smile. 

Jack hardly dares breathe, looking down at Davey, already almost asleep, curled up and resting, nestled around him. He blinks, long and slow and tired and heavy, and his heart feels like it’s full of warmth, glowing and bright. He pulls the covers up with one arm, tucking them around the both of them as neatly as he can. 

*

The second time Davey wakes up, Jack is still asleep, making little snuffling sounds that aren’t quite snores, but are halfway there. He stays where he is for a moment, soaking in the way that he can feel the rise and fall of Jack’s chest beneath him. He wonders, briefly, if he should pretend to be asleep again. He hasn’t slept for so long, or so deeply, in longer than he can remember. One of Jack’s arms is beneath his back, and he thinks, absently, that it must be going numb. The other is wrapped around him, very gently, holding him in place, the blankets loose between his fingers, as though he had fallen asleep midway through arranging the blankets around the both of them. 

He chides himself silently for not having his head screwed on straight the first time he had woken up. What the hell had he been thinking, treating _this_ like it meant something more than it did? 

Gingerly, he eases himself out from Jack’s embrace (and cringes a little at himself for even _thinking_ to use that word). He sits for a moment on the edge of the bed, and blinks everything into fuzzy focus. He is cleaning his glasses on the edge of his t-shirt when he hears movement behind him. 

Jack, who appears to be half awake, is moving his hand as though trying to find something in the bed next to him. A frown creasing the space between his eyebrows, he rolls over onto his side, and gives a disgruntled mumble when he reaches out to find the bed empty beside him. His eyes flicker open, and he immediately retracts the hand that had been outstretched, searching. 

‘Morning.’ Davey says, with a half-hearted smile. 

‘G’morning.’ Jack mumbles, and stretches out. Davey very intently looks away from him as he does, away from the way his t-shirt goes taught across his chest and arms. 

Davey gets up, quietly beginning to pack a few things away, and taking out jeans and a shirt for the day. He doesn’t look back at Jack, still sprawled out on the bed, before he ducks into the bathroom to change. 

*

They go down to breakfast in near-silence, Jack’s arm snaking its way round Davey’s waist in a movement that feels comfortingly familiar to both of them. Jack’s wearing his ripped, paint-splattered jeans again, and an old, soft green and red flannel. Davey had gotten him that flannel for a Secret Santa they had done a few years back. 

(‘It’s a non-denominational secret winter holiday gift exchange, Davey!’ Katherine had insisted, for the millionth. ‘You and Saz are Jewish, Sniper is Muslim, and half of us are atheists anyway!’ 

‘Okay, Kath.’ He had replied, and rolled his eyes. ‘Can I still wear the Santa hat, though?’ 

She had let him wear the hat, as he went round and collected in the slips of paper with everyone’s names written on them. Jack had warned him that he’d get him a fake white Santa beard to match for next year.)

Davey wonders - though he tries not to - if Jack has brought the flannel shirt with him out of sheer dedication to his role as Davey’s boyfriend. 

(Davey tries even harder not to remember how much Jack had loved the flannel when he’d gotten it, how he’d explained that all his others had paint all over them, how he’d put it on over his outfit, even though the colours clashed horribly. It still doesn’t have any paint on it, and Davey wonders if that had been a conscious effort on Jack’s part, to keep it clean and nice, so that it wouldn’t get thrown away or turned into a paint rag like so many of his other shirts did.) 

They sit at a table with Sarah and Kath, both of whom look dazedly happy, as though they are exhausted, but still buzzing a little from last night. They are holding hands across the table, each of them eating breakfast one-handed. It looks natural, as though they have done this a thousand times before. 

Jack loads up his plate with pastries and fruit, and Davey, worrying that eating will make him feel even more sick than he already, just gets a coffee. He drinks it in silence, as the other three talk animatedly. 

Jack, barely looking down as he chatters to Sarah about an art project, cuts a croissant open, and spreads butter and strawberry jam inside it. He takes out a second plate from underneath his, puts the croissant on it, and slides it over to Davey. 

Davey looks down at it, and then up at Jack. 

Jack doesn’t say anything to him, but simply looks at him. There are frown lines in between his eyebrows. Davey eats the croissant in small bites. He ends up feeling a lot less nauseous for it. He kind of hates Jack for knowing him so well. 

Les wanders over to their table at some point, and Davey and Sarah both instinctively look around for any sign of their parents. 

‘Hey, kiddo.’ Jack says, and they fist-bump. Les doesn’t betray it in his expression, but Davey can tell that he thinks it’s really cool. 

‘Hey, guys.’ Les says. ‘They’re not here. We’re going now. Mom and dad are in the car.’ 

‘Oh, should we -‘ Sarah begins, but Les shakes his head. 

‘They just said I should come say goodbye.’ 

‘Oh.’ Sarah says, and Davey watches her fly through several emotions, trying to decide which she should present to Les. She doesn’t have to decide, in the end, because Les continues. 

‘I’m sorry they’re giving you guys shit.’ He says. ‘You know there’s not much - we can’t really change what they think. But I’m proud of you guys.’ 

‘Thanks, Les.’ Davey says, quietly. ‘They ever give you shit, you call us straight away, okay?’ 

‘Yeah. I will.’ Les says, and it scares Davey a little that he doesn’t even try to deny it, or justify anything. 

‘You know there’s space at our place.’ Sarah says, with a glance sideways at Katherine, who nods, in agreement. 

‘I know, Saz. Thanks. I’m sixteen next year, so -‘ He doesn’t finish. They all know what he means. 

‘C’mere, Les.’ Davey says, and Les hugs him, tight. Davey holds back a sob, feeling suddenly very helpless. He’s hardly seen Les this weekend, so focused on his own coming out and his own worries that he had almost forgotten Les has to go back and live with their parents twenty-four-seven. He hears Les sniff, very quietly, and he hugs him even tighter. He’s pretty damn lucky, he thinks, to have a brother who’ll still hug him at fifteen. 

Les hugs Sarah, and Katherine too. He hovers a little in front of Jack, before bestowing a quick hug upon him too. 

‘It was good to meet you, Jack. Take care of Dave for me.’ Les quirks a smile as he says that, and Davey rolls his eyes. 

Jack doesn’t quite seem to know how to respond to that. ‘I will, kiddo.’ He says, eventually, with a nod. 

*

There are tears when Davey says goodbye to Sarah, and it’s almost too much for Jack to watch. He and Katherine seem to both decide that it feels like an intrusion to watch, so they hang back while the twins hug. 

‘He’s okay, Jack.’ Kath says, very softly. ‘This is the worst bit, I think.’

‘Yeah.’ Jack breathes. ‘I just wish -‘

‘I know.’ Kath says. ‘They’ve lived it their whole lives, though. They can handle it.’

Jack nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

‘You can’t fix everything.’ She continues. 

‘Fuck you.’ Jack mumbles, but he laughs. ‘I can try.’

‘I know.’ Katherine laughs, too. ‘I’ve known you too long. I know all about your dumb superhero complex.’ She says, and she sounds a little weary. She’s right, he knows it, loathe as he is to admit it. 

Davey and Sarah are holding each other at arm’s length now, and Sarah is speaking, while Davey nods. There are tears in both their eyes, and Davey is blinking furiously to stop them from spilling. There’s a lump in Jack’s throat that won’t go away. 

Sarah looks over Davey’s shoulder, and smiles at them by way of beckoning them over. Katherine looks at Jack, and he takes a deep breath, before walking over to Sarah. He hugs her, and she holds on for a moment longer than is strictly necessary. When she pulls away, she stares at him intently, and a deep understanding passes between them. The thing is, Jack isn’t quite sure what it is that he’s understanding. 

Davey hugs Katherine, and then Sarah again. Katherine gives him a punch on the shoulder to say goodbye, and he ruffles her hair. She laughs, and the look in her eyes is telling him something, reminding him of what she said before. 

_You can’t fix everything._

(She had first said that to him when they were seventeen, and she had been fighting with her father. He had wanted nothing more than to save her from him, to take her away, to look after her, to shelter her from ever having to face anything bad ever again. 

_You can’t fix everything._ , she had said, stubbing out a cigarette against the sole of her shoe. She had gone home to her father again that night, and they had fought, and Jack had understood - just a little - that she simply had to endure it. It didn’t have to be fixed, just seen through for a few months more.)

God, he fucking hates that Katherine is always right. 

*

Davey drives them home in near silence, and he doesn’t even complain when Jack puts on Sufjan Stevens. He queues up David Bowie and Carole King songs, too, because he knows Davey likes them. He thinks, maybe, Davey’s shoulders release a little bit of their tension the further they drive. He could just be inventing things, though. 

‘I’m sure your parents will come round.’ Jack tries, about an hour into the drive. 

‘I appreciate the thought, but you don’t have to.’ Davey says, tersely. 

‘I know, I know. They’ll understand, though. I bet I could -‘

Davey snaps at that. ‘Look, just because you have a mom who didn’t give a shit about your sexuality doesn’t mean you can -‘ he breaks off, and shakes his head, as though he’s trying to clear it. ‘You know what, it doesn’t matter.’ He reaches over and turns the music up, and Jack doesn’t even try to stop him, or to interject with something else. 

*

Davey drops him off outside his apartment, and he gets out of the car to say goodbye. Jack isn’t really sure why, because he doesn’t need any help with his luggage, and they’ve never really been the kind of friends who would hug goodbye. 

‘I’m really sorry about this weekend, Jack.’ Davey says, and he sounds tired. He can’t look at Jack, staring down at his hands. 

‘I had a good time.’ Jack says, a little lamely. 

‘You shouldn’t have had to go through all that with my family. It’s not your problem.’ Davey continues. He still won’t look at Jack. 

‘I enjoyed spending time with you.’ Jack says, softly. 

‘Yeah.’ Davey says. It’s not really an answer, neither an agreement nor a denial. 

They are silent for a moment, and Jack fidgets with the strap of his rucksack. He wants to say something else, anything, to explain, just to make Davey look like he isn’t about to cry. 

‘Hey, I’ll try to get you that girl’s number.’ Davey says. ‘We’re like, second-cousin-in-laws or something, shouldn’t be too hard.’ He laughs, awkwardly, with no emotion behind it. 

‘Davey, I -‘ 

‘I’ll see you around, Jack. Thanks for this.’ Davey turns around and gets back in the car. He gives Jack one last half-wave before he drives away. 

Jack watches until his car disappears over the horizon, and, even then, he still watches. He doesn’t realise he’s crying until the tears spill over his lashes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i considered giving davey’s parents a redemption arc, but i think davey’s personal arc of overcoming their treatment of him is overall more important than trying to justify their actions. tell me if u have thoughts!  
> (anyway when he’s sixteen les gets tf OUT of that house and moves in with sarah and kath and everyone they know helps him through his last two years of hs they are one big found family bby)


	10. x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my writers block is gone my skin is clear my crops are flourishing so enjoy a super quick (and short) update! so close to the end!!

Davey doesn’t unpack when he gets home. He leaves his case on the floor in the hall and heads straight for the sofa, where he slumps down and switches the TV on. He hits play on the first show on his Netflix ‘recently watched’, and tries to ignore the squirming and clawing in his gut. 

He hugs a pillow close to him, as though that will quell his discomfort. He isn’t quite sure what it is that’s making him upset, all of the events of the past few days, scrambled together in some kind of a big mess that he can’t make sense of. 

The front door bangs open, and he hears Race stumble over his suitcase in the hallway. 

‘Stupid fucking - wait Dave, are you back?’ Race calls. 

‘Sorry about my case!’ Davey shouts back, in response. Race slides into the living room in their socks, grinning. Their smile falters a little when they see Davey. 

‘How was it?’

‘Not good. Not worse than I thought. Sarah’s dating Katherine.’ He replies, shrugging. 

‘That’s... good? And no way, that’s super cute.’ Race says, with a half-smile. 

‘Yeah.’ Davey says, not quite sure what else to say, how to put any of it into words. 

‘What happened?’ Race narrows their eyes. 

‘I - nothing. I got mad at Jack and I shouldn’t have. My mom was an asshole.’ 

‘I’m sorry about your mom.’ Race says, and sits on the arm of the sofa. ‘And the Jack thing didn’t work out?’ 

‘We kissed. Fake-kissed. I don’t know. It was -‘ Davey stops, and thinks. 

‘He tried to solve everything?’ 

‘Yeah.’ Davey laughs, bitterly. ‘I know he means well, and I don’t even know why I got mad. I shouldn’t have pretended to date him. Too many -‘ He waves his arms in the air, gesturing ambiguously. ‘Too many feelings involved.’ 

Race pinches the bridge of their nose between two fingers, as though they are trying to stay calm. They mutter something under their breath, shaking their head a little. 

‘Look, I’m going to Albert’s tonight. Tell Jack to come here - don’t look at me like that - and you can scream at each other or make out or explain or just freaking apologise.’

‘Race, I don’t need to -‘

‘You do, Davey.’ They say, tiredly. ‘However that sentence was about to end, you do.’

Davey doesn’t respond to that, and just looks down at his hands. 

Race sighs. ‘Do you want a hug?’ They ask. 

‘Yeah.’ Davey nods, and his voice breaks a little bit. 

‘Move over.’ Race says, and settles down on the sofa next to Davey. They wrap their arms around him, and rest their head on his shoulder. Davey takes a deep, shaky breath, and hugs them back. 

*

Jack tries to push the weekend’s events to the back of his mind. He puts music on and unpacks his bag, trying to drown out the thoughts of Davey that won’t stop flooding him. 

Davey, in his suit, struggling to tie his tie. Davey, holding his breath as Jack tied it for him. Davey, slow-dancing with him, not quite meeting his eye. Davey, dragging him away from speaking to his second-cousin’s wife’s brother’s cousin-in-law, or whoever, his eyes narrowed, his grip almost possessive.

Davey, staring miserably into his coffee at breakfast. Davey, gripping the steering wheel and looking, very intently, in any direction that wasn’t at Jack. 

Davey, curled up and asleep with his head on Jack’s chest. 

Davey’s mouth against his, Davey’s hands gripping the back of his suit jacket, kissing him back like he was desperate for it never to end. 

He makes dinner for himself, even though it’s only six o’clock. He needs something to do, something to distract himself. He is halfway through tipping some pasta into a saucepan when his phone lights up. With a sigh, he picks it up and puts it on speaker, and starts taking pasta sauce ingredients out of the cupboards. 

‘Hey, Race.’ 

‘Hey, Jack. You sound like shit.’ Race says, cheerfully. 

‘Oh, thanks.’

‘I was just saying.’ They say, defensively. ‘Anyway, I’m going out with Albert tonight -‘

‘Please don’t end that sentence.’ 

‘Get your mind out of the gutter.’

‘Experience has taught me -‘

‘Shut up, Jack. Davey doesn’t seem too good.’

‘What’s that got to do with me?’

‘No need to sound so angry. I don’t know what happened with you, but you should sort it out.’

‘I don’t think he wants to, Race. I overstepped and he -‘

‘Yeah, I don’t have time for the specifics. I’ve got a hot date with my -‘

‘ _Race._ ’

‘Right. Sorry. Anyway, you don’t have to, but the apartment’s free for you two to yell or make out or at least just cheer each other up a bit.’

‘Hey, I’m not -‘

‘Jack, I can hear you moping through the phone. Just go make up with him.’ 

‘I - fine. Yeah, fine.’ 

‘Attaboy, Jack.’

‘Shut up, Race.’

‘Speak soon, yeah?’

‘Yeah, yeah. Have fun with Albert tonight. Be safe.’

‘I’m hanging up now.’

The line goes dead, and Jack can’t help but laugh a little. He hesitates for a moment, then taps on his messages. He stares at Davey’s name for what feels like an eternity. He looks at his pasta ingredients, at the pasta already in the pan, and sighs. 

He shoves the tomato sauce and herbs back in the cupboards, tips the dry pasta back into the bag, and sends a text to Davey. 

**takeout and a movie?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave me a comment! they make me sO happy i can’t even tell you  
> andddd my tumblr inbox is always open for prompts/ideas/requests/headcanons/thoughts/questions so ... come say hello @weisenbachfelded


	11. xi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy here it is. the big one. the finale. writing this reminded me just how much i love these two and writing and just. i hope u love it too!

**takeout and a movie?**

Davey stares at the text. He’s going to kill Race. Trust them to tell Jack that he needed looking after or something stupid like that. 

He bites his lip, and stares some more. He considers just ignoring it, thinking that, to be honest, that could avoid a fair amount of trouble. But he knows he has to solve this at some point, so he texts back. 

_Thai sound good?_

**ur a man of ideas**

**ill bring it w me b there in 45 :))))**

Davey sends back a smiley face, then sets his phone down. He panics for a moment, wondering if he should clear up, or change clothes, before realising that it’s just Jack. Jack’s spent two days with him at his very worst, and he still wants to come over and have Thai food with him. Although he’s probably being pressured by Race. 

He does change clothes, more to give himself something to do than anything else. He puts on a pair of old sweatpants, well-worn and long past their day, and a clean shirt. It’s a sleep-shirt, really, much too big for him, hanging down low on his collar and the sleeves coming down almost to his elbows. It’s comforting, though, some sense of familiarity after the last few days. 

He gets bowls and cutlery out from the cupboards, and puts them on the little table they have in the living room, in front of the TV. He sits down on the sofa, hands on his thighs. He rearranges the cutlery. He switches the plates around. He sits down again. The sound of the doorbell makes him jump, and he feels a strange kind of anticipatory twist in the pit of his stomach. 

He buzzes Jack in, and waits. He can’t quite decide where to stand - hands in his pockets, leaning against a wall - nothing feels quite right. Jack knocks on the door very softly, and Davey has to take a deep breath before he opens it. 

Nothing quite prepares him to see Jack. When he opens the door, to see him standing there, in that fucking denim jacket that clashes with the denim of his jeans, it is as though all the breath has been knocked out of him. 

‘I brought food.’ He says, lifting up a carrier bag. His voice goes up at the end of the sentence, as though he is asking a question. 

‘Thanks. You didn’t have to.’ Davey says, and steps aside to let him through. 

‘I wanted to, Davey.’ Jack says firmly, already unloading pots of food onto the table. ‘I got you pad gra paw. Veggie.’ 

‘You’re amazing.’ Davey says, with a quiet laugh. ‘Spring rolls?’ 

‘Who do you think I am? Of course I got spring rolls.’ 

Jack looks up at him, and smiles, gently. Maybe they’re just not going to talk about it. Which is fine. 

‘You gonna stand there all evening?’ Jack asks, raising an eyebrow. 

‘Yeah, maybe I will.’ Davey says, just to be stubborn, but he sits down next to Jack, and takes a spring roll. He leaves a space between them, big enough that neither of them would be able close it surreptitiously. 

‘Still wanna watch a movie?’ Jack asks, picking up the remote. That’s something he’d never noticed before, that Jack can use his TV remote without even looking at it. Davey always has to squint down, searching for the buttons, whenever he uses the TV at someone else’s house. 

‘Yeah, sure.’ Davey says, and leans back into the sofa. ‘Something new?’

Jack looks at him sideways, and raises one eyebrow. ‘We’re just gonna end up watching _Ratatouille_ again.’ 

‘It’s a good movie! And we don’t _always_ watch it.’ 

‘We do, ‘cause you’re the only one who’ll watch it with me. Technically, Race has me banned from watching it.’ 

Davey feels his breath falter at the mention of Race’s name, worried that Jack is going to launch into an explanation of why he’s actually here. But he doesn’t, so Davey pushes the thought to the very back of his mind. 

‘Well, Race doesn’t know a good movie when they see one. We’re watching _Ratatouille_.’ Davey says. 

‘Okay.’ Jack laughs, and he starts the movie. 

*

As the credits roll, Davey feels a sense of foreboding, knowing that one of them is going to have to bring it up. 

‘I’m sorry. About earlier.’ Davey says, surprising even himself. He doesn’t look at Jack, still watching the credits on the screen. 

‘You don’t need to be sorry.’ Jack replies, shaking his head a little and looking down at his hands. 

‘No, I do. I know you were just trying to help. And you did. You do. Help, that is.’ Fuck, why can’t he get his words out? 

‘I - okay. It’s okay. It was a difficult weekend for you, I know. I’m happy I could help you a bit.’ Jack says, a little stiffly. 

‘I know you’re only here ‘cause Race asked you to be, as well, so you don’t have to stay. I can clear up. Thanks for the food, remind me to pay you back.’

‘It’s on me, Davey, really.’ Jack says, with a small smile. He looks - disappointed? Davey can’t quite be sure. His emotions are all muddled up, and Jack’s expression betrays very little. ‘And Race told me to - convinced me to come, but I came ‘cause I wanted to.’

‘They told me I should yell at you.’ Davey says. He’s not really sure why he says it, but he does, anyway, and it makes Jack laugh. 

‘They told me the same thing. I don’t really want to, though.’

‘Good.’ Davey laughs, too. ‘I don’t want to either.’

‘I do want to - I should apologise too. I overstepped this weekend.’ 

‘You didn’t, Jack. If anything, I did.’ 

‘You didn’t at all. I shouldn’t have tried to fix things the way I did -‘

‘No, I took advantage of you being nice and -‘

‘You didn’t! I wanted to help, you weren’t a burden or -‘

‘It was too much. I let my feelings get in the way and I know it made you uncomfortable -‘

‘Wait, what are you talking about?’ Jack frowns, and looks directly at Davey for the first time. With Jack’s deep brown eyes fixed upon him, that gentle crease back between his eyebrows, Davey’s mouth goes dry, and he forgets for a moment what he was going to say. 

‘What are _you_ talking about?’

‘I meant I shouldn’t have commented on your relationship with your parents.’ Jack says, slowly. 

‘Oh.’ Davey says. ‘Oh, right. Yeah, that makes a lot more sense.’ 

‘Why?’ Jack narrows his eyes a little. ‘What did you mean?’ 

Davey considers for a moment not answering. He also considers bolting for the door. He closes his eyes for a moment, and hopes that Jack doesn’t quite manage to piece together what he’s saying. 

‘I meant I shouldn’t have kissed you.’ Davey admits. 

‘And you felt like that took advantage of me?’ Jack says, slowly, and _shit_ , he really is going to piece it together. Davey feels a little sick. But perhaps Race was right. He needs to get this out, to actually set the record straight. (Or maybe not _straight_. Or - whatever.)

‘Yeah.’ Davey breathes. ‘Kissing you wasn’t part of the deal. Not really, anyway.’

‘Because you let your feelings get in the way?’ Jack says, repeating Davey’s words back to him. And there it is. Davey feels hollow, as though everything inside him has, in Jack’s uttering those words, spilled out in front of him. 

‘Yeah. Yeah, I did. I should never have asked you to pretend to date me in the first place -‘

‘Can I kiss you?’ Jack asks. Davey stares at him, and blinks. Once, twice, three times. He opens his mouth to reply, and then closes it again. 

‘I - maybe I’m reading this wrong.’ Jack says, frowning. ‘I’m sorry, I just thought...’ he trails off, and shakes his head. 

It isn’t until he stands up to leave that Davey finally, finally connects the wires in his brain, and jumps up off the sofa. He makes a strangled noise that he hopes vaguely resembles the word ‘wait!’ and grabs Jack by the arm. 

Jack looks down at his hand on his arm and Davey hears his breath catch, a tiny, sharp intake that is barely audible. He tries to get his mouth to form words, but he can’t connect whatever it is that needs to be connected in order for him to actually be coherent - so he just leans in and presses his mouth to Jack’s. 

Jack doesn’t kiss him back, for a moment, his mouth slightly parted in surprise, still frozen to the spot. When Davey realises this, he pulls back, worried - only to be pulled straight back in by Jack’s hand on the back of his neck. 

The moment their lips touch, Davey moans in a mixture of relief and sheer elation, and he feels his face flush with embarrassment. Jack, however, smiles against his mouth, and kisses him even deeper. 

He becomes aware that he is still gripping Jack’s arm. He clumsily fumbles his arms around Jack’s waist, pulling him ever closer, which makes Jack laugh a little. They trip over their feet, Jack guiding him with one hand on the back of his neck and one on his hip, to the sofa, never for a moment disconnecting their lips. The edge of the sofa hits the back of Davey’s knees, and he stumbles a little, bumping his mouth a little too hard against Jack’s. 

‘Sorry, sorry.’ He mumbles, desperate not to break the kiss. 

‘’S’okay.’ Jack says, and, to Davey’s dismay, he pulls back. He doesn’t move the hand from the back of Davey’s neck, though, using it to press their foreheads gently together. Jack is smiling, biting his lip to keep from breaking out in a grin. He is breathless, and Davey can feel his chest rising and falling heavily. He wonders, for a moment, if Jack can feel the way his heart is thudding against the inside of his ribs. 

Jack nudges him back against the sofa a little, questioning. Davey doesn’t need to be asked twice. He puts out a hand to support himself, and lets Jack guide them onto the sofa, until they are lying, horizontal, with Jack resting on top of him, supporting himself on his forearms, gazing down at Davey. 

He feels himself flush under the intensity Jack’s gaze, and almost looks away. Before he can, though, Jack is pressing kisses to his neck, tracing a line up towards his mouth. He tilts his head back almost subconsciously, and he feels the curve of Jack’s smile against his skin. 

‘Is this okay?’ Jack murmurs, very quietly, when he reaches his mouth, hovering right over Davey’s lips. Davey, desperate to have his mouth back on him, leans up and kisses him fiercely. Realising that he should probably answer that, he pulls back a fraction of an inch. 

‘It’s okay. It’s so, so okay.’ 

Jack laughs again, and Davey wants to drown in it. Jack’s mouth meets his, and he moves his weight off of his forearms, so that their bodies are pressed together. Davey feels as though he’s on fire, desperate to identify and revel in every point of contact between them, from their knees to the slight bumping of their noses when they get too enthusiastic. One of Jack’s hands is curled around Davey’s cheek, cradling it, and the other is resting on Davey’s waist, as though he is hesitant to hold on to him, even though he currently has him pinned to the sofa. 

If Davey had thought that kissing Jack at the wedding was good, that was nothing compared to this. Jack is kissing him with all of the ferocity of the night before (and could it really only be a night ago?), but with a thousand times more admiration. Every kiss feels as though it is in constant anticipation of the next, as though Jack is eager and desperate to find out what else awaits him. 

Jack kisses like he is discovering Davey, unearthing a new path with every touch of his mouth. The hand that is holding his face is gentle, his thumb tracing over Davey’s cheekbone in soothing motions. Davey is desperate that Jack feels the way he does, desperate to convey the same longing, the same deep desire to uncover everything about him through his kisses. He isn’t quite sure how, and so begins to do so with his hands. 

He trails his fingertips up and down the flat of Jack’s back, running over his shoulder blades and up over his sides. He trails his hands up Jack’s sides, over his shoulders, his upper arms, at one point intertwining his fingers with Jack’s where they rest on the side of his face. Jack smiles at that, kissing him just a little harder, and pressing the hand on his waist a little firmer. He curls his fingers into Jack’s hair, at the nape of his neck, and Jack breaks the kiss to bury his face in Davey’s shoulder. He is breathing heavily, laughing a little, and when he speaks, his voice is low and quiet, and sends a thrill through Davey. 

‘Jesus, Dave.’ Jack says into his neck. He pushes himself back up onto his forearms to stare at Davey, blinking slowly as though in a daze. ‘You’re gonna kill me, you know that?’ 

‘I sure as hell hope not.’ Davey says, smiling, unreasonably pleased with himself. 

‘What - do we - do you -’ Jack breaks off, and shuts his eyes, composing himself. ‘- do you want to...?’

‘Can we not?’ Davey says, and immediately backtracks. ‘Not tonight, I mean. It’s not that I don’t want to - fucking hell, I really want to - this weekend has just been kind of tiring and...’ he breaks off, and lets out a deep breath. 

‘Of course, Davey. You don’t have to come up with reasons for why you don’t want to. I, uh -’ Jack clears his throat, and then says, quietly, ‘I really want that, too. Sometime.’

‘Sometime soon.’ Davey says, nodding. He laces their fingers together, and presses a gentle kiss to Jack’s mouth. ‘You could still stay over, though. If you want. Or is that too fast?’

‘Maybe it’s too fast.’ Jack says, and kisses him again, twice, once on his cheek, and once on his mouth. ‘I don’t really care, though. I’d love to stay.’ 

‘Okay. Okay, yeah.’ Davey breathes. ‘Should we... take this to the bedroom?’ He wiggles his eyebrows, just to hear Jack laugh. ‘We could even -’ he kisses Jack’s jaw ‘- put on our pyjamas.’ 

Jack does laugh, and Davey revels in it. He’s not quite sure how he’s going to get used to this, to being able to admire Jack, to marvel at him without feeling a twinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach. 

‘Yeah, let’s go.’ Jack says, smiling, and he stands, reluctantly pulling himself away from Davey, who whines a little at the loss of contact. 

‘I don’t wanna get up.’ Davey grumbles. ‘I’ve changed my mind. Come back.’ 

Jack looks down at him, smiling and shaking his head a little. All of a sudden, he bends down, and scoops Davey into his arms, bridal-style. 

‘Hey!’ Davey protests, laughing in surprise. He loops his arms around Jack’s neck, and kisses him, hard. Jack presses their foreheads together, still smiling. 

He carries him all the way to the bedroom, and sets him down on the bed. Davey doesn’t let go of Jack’s neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss. 

‘Can I borrow some pyjamas?’ Jack asks, half-mumbled against Davey’s lips. 

‘Yeah.’ Davey says, and unhooks his arms from around Jack’s neck. He flops down on the bed, staring up at Jack. ‘Third drawer down.’ 

‘Thank you.’ Jack says, retrieving a set of pyjamas. ‘I’ll, uh -‘ he waves the bundle of pyjamas in the air with one hand and points to the bathroom with the other. Davey blows him a kiss, which he catches, smiling, and he goes to change. 

*

When Jack comes out of the bathroom, Davey is curled up in bed, over to one side, the covers pooled around his waist. He looks up at Jack with some undeterminable expression on his face, biting his lip to hold back a smile. 

‘I think they suit me.’ Jack says, showing off the plaid pyjama pants he’s wearing. They trail on the floor, much too long for his legs. 

‘‘Mm, I think so too.’ Davey says, and it send a thrill through Jack to watch the way his eyes flick up and down, drinking him in. 

He tucks himself into the bed next to Davey, and lies opposite him, their faces nearly touching. He feels suddenly very nervous again, his heart beating hard and fast. 

‘Hi.’ Davey says, barely more than a whisper. 

‘Hi.’ 

Jack leans over and kisses the tip of Davey’s nose, watching it scrunch up, right in the place where his freckles are sitting across the bridge of his nose. Davey curls up into Jack, and he adjusts them so that Davey can lie with his head on Jack’s chest, just like they had that very morning. Davey looks up at Jack, and absent-mindedly traces the outline of his mouth with a fingertip. 

‘What is it?’ Davey asks. 

‘What?’ Jack frowns. 

‘You’re staring.’

‘Oh, is that not allowed?’

‘Not really, no.’ Davey says, but he grins and reaches up to kiss Jack again. 

‘I really fucking like you, Davey.’ Jack says, when Davey pulls away. 

‘I really fucking like you, too, Jack.’ Davey replies, very quietly. ‘I am sorry about this weekend.’

‘I’m not.’ Jack says, quickly. ‘I mean, I am sorry about - y’know.’

‘I know.’

‘Not about...’ He squeezes Davey closer to him. ‘Not about this. Maybe I wish it had been a bit easier.’

‘Oh, you think?’ Davey laughs. ‘If I’d known it would be that easy, we’d have been doing this -’ he kisses Jack again, long and deep. ‘- for a lot longer.’

‘We’ve got time to make up for it.’ Jack says, even though he knows it makes him sound like a sap. Davey doesn’t seem to care though, resting his head back on his chest, positioned so that he can still look up at him. 

Jack’s heart feels warm and heavy, fit to burst. He has a thousand things he wants to say, a thousand apologies to make, a thousand reassurances he wants to whisper to Davey. For now, though, he simply holds him closer, laces their fingers together, and thinks the words in his head that, perhaps, he will one day say aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there u have it!! finished!!! thank u to everyone who has read and left kudos and commented and encouraged me im. so proud of this fic.   
> more things are coming!! i have some plans and also prompts are opennn on tumblr @weisenbachfelded or u can just come talk about the ideas i have for more stuff. love to you all!

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello hello love to u if ur reading this!! kudos and comments give me LIFE pls leave them!
> 
> i’m on tumblr @weisenbachfelded so send me an ask over there too xo


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